Thirty Worlds
by absedarian
Summary: 30 SQ AU stories, based on the Challenge On Infinite Earths (I swapped out some prompts). There's no connection between the stories, so feel free to read along as I'm posting (which will be every few days). Some of these have been posted on my tumblr before. Ratings will vary. Definitely Swan Queen.
1. Hogwarts: The Broom Closet

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

**A/N: And of course I manage to get Bering and Wells into this story ... ;-)**

**A/N 2: Some of these have been posted on my tumblr before.**

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**Day 1: Hogwarts AU - The Broom Closet  
**

"Professor Mills."

"Professor Swan."

"How long is this supposed to go on?" Professor Helena Wells asked as she pulled her best friend down the corridor towards her potions classroom. "Ever since McGonagall hired Emma you've been giving her the cold shoulder." She sounded weary and annoyed. "That was five months ago, you're being ludicrous."

Regina huffed angrily, striding from one end of the classroom to the other. "What do you expect me to do?" she demanded acidly. "Jump into her arms as soon as she showed up here with her perfect locks and … and her green eyes and that … that ridiculous smile of hers?"

Helena perched on her desk, trying not to laugh at the state of her best friend. "You still love her just as much now as you did ten years ago when Myka and I walked in on you in that broom closet over there, don't you?"

"That's preposterous," Regina growled but she couldn't stop herself from gazing at the broom closet fondly. She wondered if their initials were still visible where they had scratched them into the wall. "I wasn't in love with Emma Swan back then, and I'm certainly not in love with her now."

"Oh, was _that_ why you wrote all those wonderful love poems you never gave her?" Helena asked casually. "Or why you can't take your eyes off of her whenever she's near?"

"I never … wh— … how do you _know_ about the poems?" Regina was flabbergasted.

Helena chuckled, noting that Regina had at least stopped denying her feelings. For now. "Darling, we shared a dorm room for seven years. You think I don't know _every last one_ of your secrets? You certainly know mine." She stood and walked over to a side cabinet and opened it. "Speaking of which …" She took a vial from the top shelf and took a healthy swig. "Bleh. That stuff is still as vile as it has always been. I've tried everything but it still tastes as badly as Slughorn's socks smell."

Regina shook herself at the thought. "Would you like me to give it a try?"

"Hell no," Helena gasped. "You're worse at potions than Myka, and _she_ ruined about ten cauldrons during our years here."

Regina laughed, but sobered soon after. "Why did she have to come here?"

"Myka?" Helena intentionally misunderstood. "I guess because being the boring old couple that we are, we actually _like_ being together."

Regina's glare made Helena chuckle.

"She came here to be close to _you_," Helena answered more seriously. "That often is what people do, you know … try to be close to the people they've loved since the dawn of time."

"Even if that were true … I'm a Slytherin and she's a Gryffindor, My mother was a Death Eater and Emma's parents died valiantly in the Battle of Hogwarts," Regina protested. "Couples like us just don't work."

Helena perked up at Regina's words. "You mean, couples like Myka and me? Remember, I'm a Slytherin, too."

"Myka is different," Regina muttered. "She loves you more than she likes breathing. And she's a Ravenclaw, not one of those do-gooder Gryffindors."

Helena groaned. "Trust me, Emma is in love with you. Always has been."

"She's _not_ in love with me," Regina stated. "Probably never has been. Or she wouldn't have—"

"Yes, she is," a new voice said from the door, interrupting Regina.

Regina and Helena whirled around and came face to face with Professors Swan and Bering. Myka immediately beckoned Helena to her while simultaneously pushing Emma a couple of steps into the room.

"Guess that's my cue to leave," Helena stage-whispered to Regina as she walked past her towards the door. "Don't be your usual stubborn self, okay?"

Regina turned away from the door, mentally preparing herself for the effects Emma had on her when she was near. She wondered if Emma had somehow managed to slip her a love potion but ignored that thought at once. Emma had _always_ affected her strangely.

Regina heard soft steps behind her and her shoulders tensed automatically. "Eavesdropping again, Professor Swan?" she asked, trying to sound casual. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough," Emma replied, suddenly much closer than Regina expected, her breath tickling the hair at the back of Regina's neck. Regina bit back a moan at the familiar sensation.

"Enough for what?" It came out as strangled whisper.

"Enough to know that you still remember the way we loved each other," Emma replied softly, and this time her lips caressed Regina's neck.

Regina tried to take a step away but only managed to run into Helena's tidy desk. Then a hand snaked around her waist and pressed against her stomach. "It's not my fault that the sorting hat put me in Gryffindor," Emma continued. "Believe me, I had words with it before the ceremony at the beginning of this year."

Emma's voice trickled down Regina's ear like warm honey, almost causing her knees to buckle. Emma tightened her grip, slipping her hand inside Regina's robes as she did. "What …" Regina cleared her throat. "What are you doing?" There was a hint of panic in her tone.

"Wondering how to convince you to visit our broom closet again," Emma explained with an audible smile. "Our initials are still there, you know."

"They are?" Somehow this gave Regina hope that this could be real.

"They are," Emma confirmed. "I checked the first day I got back here."

Emma took a small step back and smiled when Regina sagged a little in what she hoped was disappointment, but Emma needed room to turn Regina in her arms. She met deep, dark eyes, and tried not to fall into them like she always did. There were things that needed to be said first. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get back here," Emma apologized softly. "I've been badgering McGonagall for years to give me a position here. _Any_ position. I even applied for Filch's job when he retired a couple of years ago."

Regina's eyebrow went up. "Why would you do _that_?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Because I wanted to be close to you, you idiot."

"Hey!"

"What?"

"Don't steal my nicknames," Regina protested. "That's what I call _you_, not the other way around."

"Then don't act like one and kiss me!"

Regina searched Emma's face for any hint of deceit, for any signs that this was too good to be true but there was nothing but open sincerity there, nothing but strong, honest feelings in her eyes.

"Jesus, you're stubborn," Emma moaned impatiently when Regina took too long. With one sharp tug, she pulled Regina closer and crashed their mouths together in a heated kiss. Regina hesitated another second, then melted into Emma's embrace, kissing her back with abandon.

When they parted, both were a little breathless. "We can't do this," Regina said sadly. At the crestfallen look on Emma's face she immediately added, "Not in a classroom."

Without a word, Emma dragged her to the notorious broom closet, letting the door fall close behind them with a small thud. She pressed Regina against the wall, kicking an old stool and a couple of buckets out of the way as she went. They continued to kiss, soft and slow, both letting out moans when the feelings got too intense.

Emma pulled away a little and cupped Regina's cheek. "I love you, Regina," she whispered, and Regina heard it as if it had been a shout. "I know we have a lot to talk about but this is the important thing. I love you and I want to be with you … if you think you can stand being around this do-gooder Gryffindor, that is."

"I guess it's too late to get the sorting hat to change your house," Regina said around a smile. "I'll just have to corrupt you with my evil Slytherin ways then."

Emma bit her bottom lip. "Is that a yes then?"

"It's an _I love you too,_" Regina whispered, and then words were lost as they went back to kissing, enjoying the sudden edge their acknowledged feelings for each other brought to the intimate contact.

They broke apart when there were muffled sounds coming through the door from the classroom. It was the evening so they weren't worried about another class coming into the room. With a small smirk Regina pulled Emma into her body and kissed her again, sneaking a hand into the loose robes. She pulled at the shirt she found underneath and groaned when her fingers found skin they hadn't touched in ten long years.

"I missed you so much," Emma moaned, pressing her body into the touch. "So, so much."

"I missed you too," Regina spoke against Emma's lips. "Don't do that to us again."

"Promise," was all Emma got out as Regina's thumbs started playing with rapidly hardening nipples. "God, Regina."

Suddenly, the door behind them opened wide. There was a second of total silence, then the sound of giggling.

"I can't believe it," Helena said in a stage whisper.

"Yes, ten years later and we still go for the same places to make out," Myka added with a wide grin.

Regina and Emma blushed but couldn't hide their happy grins.

"Well, at least they're dressed this time," Helena remarked with a wink.

Emma straightened her robes and took Regina's hand, pulling her out of the closet. "Not for long," she called back as she and Regina left the classroom at a run.

**The End**


	2. Zombies: One More Day

**Disclaimer: Not my characters. Pity.**

**A/N: This was posted on my tumblr before.**

**Summary: Storybrooke is overrun by zombies, and Emma and Regina are stuck at Town Hall with the rest of the gang.**

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**Day 2 - Zombies: One More Day**

„Close the door! Close the fucking door!"

Emma's yell was breathless as she powered through the door of Storybrooke's Town Hall, dragging Ruby with her.

David slammed the door shut while Grumpy readied the heavy wooden bar that would keep them firmly inside and the swarming mass of bodies outside.

Snow was by Emma's side in an instant. "Are you okay? That looked awfully close."

Ruby snorted darkly, still hanging off Emma's shoulder. "They got into the convent," she muttered darkly, ending on a groan which spurred Snow into action. She ducked under Ruby's free arm and together she and Emma helped Ruby into the room they had reserved for the injured.

"What happened?" Snow asked Emma, nodding in Ruby's direction once the waitress was lying down, Granny already by her side and carefully working off her sturdy boot.

"Don't worry," Emma replied loud enough for everyone to hear. "Ruby's ankle got caught in a root and she fell heavily. We almost got caught when we checked out the convent to see if there was anyone left." Snow still looked unsure and so did David and Grumpy who had joined them. "She _wasn't_ bitten, folks," Emma said wearily. "They didn't get anywhere that close to us."

"Were there any … was there anyone left at the convent?" Grumpy asked quietly and Emma felt for the small, usually belligerent man. "Maybe they left the convent and are hiding somewhere else …"

"Sorry," was all Emma could say, deciding not to mention that Grumpy's girlfriend Nova had been one of the people chasing her and Ruby. "They're all … gone."

"Come on," Snow said softly, rubbing Emma's shoulder. "You need to eat something and then get some rest."

Emma shook her head. "Where is she?" she asked instead as she looked around the room.

Snow closed her eyes resignedly. "In her office, I think, doing whatever it is that she's doing in there." There was a whole world of annoyance in her tone. Nobody but Emma was allowed into the mayor's office with Regina and Snow had only accepted that after Emma had told her in no uncertain terms that that was just how things were going to be, Snow's hurt feelings be damned.

"She's trying to save us all," Emma muttered. "Just let it go and accept the fact that she's on our side, okay?" She turned to Granny. "Did she eat anything this morning? How is she?" Emma had left before dawn when Regina had still been sleeping.

Granny shook her head. "You know how she is … she got lost in her work. Wouldn't even open the door for me and her breakfast."

Emma sighed. "Yeah, I know, sorry. I'll talk to her." She walked towards the kitchen, Granny hot on her heels. "Is there—"

"Here," Granny interrupted her, pressing a bag filled with various things into her hand. "There's enough for the both of you." She ignored Emma's pathetically grateful look. "Now go!"

Emma trudged up the stairs slowly, half dragging herself up with the help of the bannister. She hadn't had a good night's sleep in the two weeks since this whole nightmare started, and she knew the same went for everyone else in their little group. She was worried about all of them, but mostly about her immediate family. It was both a blessing and a curse that Henry had been visiting his father when this weird virus had shown up and had turned people into zombies.

It had been Regina who had figured it out, who had realized that there was the distinct feel of dark magic about the outbreak, but it had taken another two days for Snow to admit that the Blue Fairy had been dabbling in blood magic in her quest to find a way back to the Enchanted Forest.

_"Blood magic gone wrong,"_ Regina had said with a sneer. _"Amateurs dabbling in things they don't understand."_ Still, she had withdrawn into her former office to try and find a cure or at least something that could help the ever-dwindling number of survivors get out of Storybrooke alive. And once the town had been completely overrun, they had all moved into the town hall because that's where Regina had been holed up at the time, and Emma had refused to leave her side.

Emma opened the door to the office quietly, just in case Regina had decided to take a nap. The door opened easily for her and the fact that she was the only one the wards around the door would allow in still made her smile even after all this time.

Regina was tinkering in the corner, bent over substances Emma didn't want to look at too closely. The makeshift bed in the corner was made and looked incredibly tempting but first things first. "Hello, my sweet baby girl," Emma cooed softly as she walked up behind Regina.

"Really?" Regina asked without turning around. "That's what you're going with now?"

Emma pulled Regina into a hug from behind. "And hello to you too," she added, pressing her nose and lips into Regina's hair. Despite all the chaos she still managed to look ravishing and smell even better. "I missed you," Emma whispered hoarsely.

Regina turned around in her arms and Emma immediately went in for a sweet kiss before dropping to one knee and pressing the side of her face against Regina's protruding belly. "I brought something to eat." She tried to keep any kind of accusation from her voice.

Regina shook her head, the thought of food anathema to her. "You were gone a long time," she whispered, and Emma could hear the worry in the words.

"The convent is gone."

There was an almost vicious feeling of satisfaction for a moment, but Regina tried to suppress it, knowing full well that it wouldn't be appreciated. Still ... "At least Blue got a taste of what she caused."

Emma got to her feet and nodded. "And so did a whole number of innocent people." She walked back to where she had dropped the food, then collapsed onto the couch. She beckoned Regina over, who came willingly. "Blue also can't tell us what the hell she did to cause this," Emma said, sounding too tired to even be frustrated about that fact.

"She was never going to help us anyway," Regina pointed out. "It's not like we didn't ask her in the beginning." They had _all_ asked, including Regina who could still taste the acrid smell of magic around Blue, and see the deranged look in her eyes. But that trip had resulted in one important thing: a lead, an idea what Blue had tried — and failed — to do.

"Eat something, Regina," Emma said as she opened the bag Granny had given her. "Please." She had no qualms about showing off her puppy dog eyes to get Regina to do what she needed her to do.

Regina looked over the selection Emma had brought and picked out an apple. Emma grumbled but it was better than nothing, so she stayed quiet. She'd pester Regina again later.

"I think I may have found something," Regina stated cautiously, playing with the apple in her hand. "I might not be able to cure anyone already affected but I think I can protect us."

"All of us here?" Emma was too exhausted to realize how her question could sound to Regina. "Like a vaccine?"

"All of us," Regina replied tonelessly, and it was a sign of how tired she herself was that she didn't explode. "It's not a vaccine … I couldn't put it into a potion …"

"What then?" Emma couldn't sit up anymore. She reclined on the couch, resting her head in Regina's lap.

"I'd have to perform magic on everyone," Regina admitted, running a hand through Emma's hair. "It's a tough spell to cast, so I might need a day to gather my energy."

"You need food and sleep," Emma declared. "So do I." She sat up. "Let's take a nap, okay? Right now I'm too tired to even be happy that you can save us."

"I don't need words, Emma," Regina whispered. "I know you, and I can see it in your eyes."

Emma pulled her boots off, followed by her dirty jeans, jacket, and shirt before crawling onto their mattress on the floor. "Come here."

Regally, Regina undressed down to her underwear and joined Emma. As soon as she was in her lover's arms, her whole body relaxed. "I can't stand it when you're out there alone."

"I'm never alone out there," Emma muttered drowsily.

"You're out there without me," Regina amended, and Emma squeezed her tightly in response.

"One more day until we can get out of here?" Emma asked.

"One more day."

They both drifted off into a deep sleep, wrapped tightly in each other's arms, knowing they were almost through this nightmare.

They never heard the noise downstairs when the undead masses broke down the door and stormed the building.

**The End**


	3. Medieval: The Tourney

**Summary: After their return to the Enchanted Forest, Emma Swan gets ready for her first tourney to fight for her love. **

**Disclaimer: Not my characters.**

**A/N: This was posted on my tumblr before. **

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**Day 3: The Tourney**

"Are you sure I have to wear all this crap?"

Snow sighed. "Emma, _you_ were the one who wanted to be a knight rather than the princess you really are," she said through gritted teeth, barely hiding her disappointment at that decision. "Now you just have to deal with the consequences."

"Buck up, baby girl," David told her with a wide grin. "Man, I still remember my first tourney."

Emma played with her gauntlets. "Difference is you could ride … and sort of wield a lance, I bet," she muttered. "My only experience with this kind of thing is watching _Ivanhoe_ on TV when I was a kid."

"Ivanhoe was on TV?" Snow asked, eyes wide. "Did you see Rowena as well?"

"Ivanhoe is _real_?" Emma gasped, and not for the first time since their return to the Enchanted Forest _for an extended vacation_ as she called it.

David laughed loudly. "You fall for that every time, Emma." He patted her back in sympathy.

"Yeah well, how should I know what's real and what's not?" Emma looked down at the pile of armor at her feet, wondering how she was supposed to get this all on her body without hurting herself. "Shouldn't I have a page or something to help me?" she asked, ignoring that it sounded more like a whine.

David cleared his throat. "I thought today I'd do the honors, if you don't mind," he said with a small smile. "Henry wanted to do it, but I don't think that would have been as helpful as he thought. I told him he could do it next time."

"There will be no next time," Emma growled. "Not if I can help it."

Snow gave her a long look. "You know there's an easy way to prevent that," she pointed out. "Just get married already." Before Emma could say anything she left, leaving Emma and her father alone in the large tent.

"Why would that dumbass even challenge me?" she asked her father who was kneeling at her feet, separating the various metal pieces from each other. "It doesn't make any sense."

David looked up at her. "But you see, Emma," he said gently. "In this world it does. As long as you're not married or at least betrothed, you both can be pursued. And Robin decided it was worth a chance."

"Because that stupid Tink couldn't keep her mouth shut about that freakin' fairy dust that she sprinkled a lifetime ago." Emma rolled her eyes. "She's _my_ true love, Dad, no matter what some fairy magic said."

"I know," David agreed simply, and Emma marveled at how accepting her parents were of Regina and her. Not that it hadn't taken a while, she thought, but in the end … "I was there, remember? I was standing right next to you, in fact, when you kissed her and nearly flattened half of Storybrooke with the magic you made." He chuckled. "I think Zelena is probably still up in that tree your magic tossed her in, clinging to that flying monkey of hers."

Emma grinned widely. "Hey, that was my ex-boyfriend," she joked.

David shook himself in apparent disgust. "I never thought I'd be saying this, but I'm _so_ glad you fell in love with Regina instead of him."

Emma's smile lit her eyes from within. "I fell in love with her long before she even sent me to New York," she whispered softly.

David fastened the leg plates around her thighs. "In Neverland?" he asked, somehow already knowing the answer.

"Yeah." Emma cleared her throat. "Having to leave Storybrooke almost killed me, and not just because of you and Snow."

"Did Regina know?" They had never talked about all of this, David realized, and now he was even more glad that he had volunteered for this job.

Emma nodded. "She knew … we _both_ knew." Her eyes clouded over as she remembered that horrible day. "None of you ever knew how much of a sacrifice Regina was really making that day to make sure Henry and I stayed safe."

David patted her calf. "I'm glad it all worked out okay."

"With the exception of that hooded dude who can't take a hint," Emma sighed. "And who knows how many other guys beside him?"

"Emma." David got up from his knees and put his hands on her shoulder. "You know how to make it stop."

Emma bit her lip. "But what if she never wants to get married again?" she asked, sounding small. "It's not like her first marriage was a walk in the park, no matter what Snow might think."

"Have you ever talked about it?"

Emma shook her head, missing the way David smiled at something over her shoulder. "I don't know how to bring it up," she admitted. "I don't want to hurt her or pressure her … and if I _have_ to, I will put on armor and duel for the right to love her every damn day for the rest of my life."

"I don't think that's how I want to spend the rest of our life together, Ms. Swan," Regina said from behind her. David nodded at her and took a few steps back, excusing himself to give the two women some privacy. "Especially considering how short that life would probably be."

Emma turned around. "What … what are you saying?"

Regina rolled her eyes. "I'm saying, my beautiful idiot, that you'd better get on one knee fast before Robin skewers you on a lance."

"Get on my knee?" Emma asked, proving to Regina that her Charming genes sometimes still shone through. "What—?"

"Because if you won't do it, I'll have to," Regina explained _almost_ patiently, making sure to use small words. "And my dress is far too nice for this grubby floor."

A lightbulb went on inside Emma's head. "You want to marry me? Really?" she asked, awed by the thought. "Just so I don't have to duel the forest-smelling guy?"

Regina rolled her eyes again, which were suspiciously moist now. "No, I want to marry you so I don't have to marry _him_ after he beats you today," she husked.

"You don't think I can win?" Emma looked offended.

"_You_ don't think you can win, dear," Regina pointed out dryly. "Besides, I've gotten used to having you around … and …" She fell quiet and avoided Emma's eyes.

"And?" Emma asked once she had lifted Regina's face and could see her eyes again. She didn't know what to expect but it wasn't the excited gleam she found in their dark depths. "And what?"

Regina took Emma's hand and pressed it against her flat belly, just below her navel. "And … if we could avoid getting you killed today, this little one won't have to grow up without its mother."

Outside the tent, David chuckled softly at the excited _"whoohoo"_ he could hear from Emma. He called over one of the guards and told him to go find Robin Hood. There was not going to be any duel today. Or any other day.

Then he sighed and went to find his wife. He owed her a hundred gold pieces. His bet had Emma caving _after_ getting her into her full armor, not before.

**The End**


	4. Spies: The Package

**Disclaimer: Not my characters.**

**Challenge on Infinite Earths / AU Challenge - Day 4: Spies**

**Summary: Agent Emma Swan is on a new mission: retrieve a mysterious package from the even more mysterious agent who everyone calls the Evil Queen.**

**A/N: I had a lot of fun with this one. :) Also, this was posted on my tumblr before.**

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**Day 4: The Package**

"Who's my contact, Snow?" Emma asked her boss. "The usual?"

The head of SIA-5, code name Snow White, hesitated. "The Hook is … unavoidably detained," she said softly.

Emma grunted. Getting him out of whatever hole he'd landed in was probably going to be her next assignment after this. She wondered where he could be. "Russia?"

"North Korea."

"Damn," Emma muttered. "So who then?"

"The Evil Queen," Snow told her best agent, and Emma whistled under her breath. "Be careful, Swan, she's a risk. Nobody knows which side she's actually on, but it's predominantly her own. We can't trust her, but we don't have a choice. Apparently, she has a very important package that needs to leave the country immediately."

"What's the window?"

"You need to get the package out by tomorrow night. It's a matter of life and death or so I've been told from high on up," Snow replied. "The meeting has already been set up. Sending you the details now."

Emma ended the call without a goodbye and decrypted her email to read the details. _Lavrov's Bookstore, 6PM. EQ will find you. She will mention apples. If no contact tonight, next opportunity: Café Dimitrovna, 9AM. _

Emma chuckled at Snow's shorthand instructions, but they suited her just fine. She'd browse the bookstore before and after the meeting time, and either take the package tonight or have a nice quiet night in.

She had heard of the Evil Queen, of course; everybody in their business had. If Natasha Romanoff had red in her ledger, it was nothing compared to the crimson dripping all over the Evil Queen's.

o-o-o

The bookstore was empty except for three or four people, but it was still early. Emma checked her wristwatch to see it was just after 5pm. She found a spot that allowed her to see both the front and the back entrance and most of the store. She picked up a book at random from the shelf she was standing at and began browsing. _Poetry?_ she thought with a silent groan. _Just my luck. _She checked the adjacent shelf for more interesting reading material. _Arts and crafts. Even worse._

She sighed and began flipping the pages while her eyes constantly roamed the store. It was getting closer to 6pm now but so far the only people she could see were the short squat guy behind the counter — the owner, she assumed —, the hipster student four shelves over, and a young woman with the shortest skirt she'd ever seen in public. She watched each of them unobtrusively, but none of them even took notice of her.

6pm came and went. Emma started a slow stroll through the store, stopping at points she had picked out beforehand to look around. She hated meeting contacts she didn't know but the longer she was spending in the bookstore, the more she had the feeling that the meeting wouldn't happen that day.

6.15pm came and went as well and the Evil Queen still was a no show. Emma rolled her eyes a little at the small kernel of disappointment in her belly. _Tomorrow then._ She hung around a little longer, browsing the English-language section, even though she didn't quite know why. Finally, at 6.30pm, she stuffed the book she had been checking out back on the shelf and left, already envisioning a relaxing bath and a good night's sleep.

She was torn from her thoughts when a slight, female body crashed into her just outside the store. "Sorry," she muttered once she had righted herself.

"No, I'm sorry," a husky voice replied, replying in fluent, accent-free English. "It was my fault. And I poured my coffee all over your jacket too."

Emma looked down at her own body. "It's fine," she said automatically. "It's leather, so it shouldn't—" She stopped when her eyes finally took in the woman standing before her. She could feel her heart stop and her breath leaving her lungs in a sudden exhale. _Sweet Jesus._

Standing there, apologetic expression on her face, was the most beautiful woman Emma had ever seen. Shoulder-length dark hair framed a perfect face, and Emma couldn't decide if the dark eyes or the delectable-looking scar on the woman's upper lip drew her attention more.

"Are you all right?" the husky voice asked when Emma just stared mutely.

Emma shook herself. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said. _Died and gone to heaven probably, but fine. _She had a sudden thought and before she could question it, she blurted, "Can I buy you a new cup of coffee? Seeing as my jacket drank the one you had."

The brunette hesitated, studying Emma for a long moment. "It's really not necessary," she finally said, slowly as if trying the words on for size. "I shouldn't really be drinking coffee at this hour anyway."

Emma saw her chance slip away. "Please?" she asked again. "Just a drink … my name is Emma, by the way." She grinned disarmingly. "See, now I'm not a stranger anymore."

The brunette gave her an unreadable look, but finally nodded minutely. "One drink," she agreed. "My name is Regina."

o-o-o

They spent hours in a little cafe next to the bookstore, talking about books and movies, traveling and the world in general, and still Emma couldn't tear her eyes away from Regina. Her mouth rolled over that name, liking how it felt on her tongue, and she tried hard not to imagine how it would feel to scream that name in release.

Or hear her own name fall from that perfect mouth in the throes of passion.

Emma listened to that raspy voice as Regina told her a story about someone she was working with and the longer she watched, the more she saw. She could see the way Regina's eyes lingered on her lips, how her tongue came out to wet her mouth when she did so, she could see how the dark eyes took on an even darker hue. Their hands had met in the middle of the table, quite by accident really, but neither of them had removed their fingers from where they brushed against the other's.

"You're not even listening to me," Regina remarked suddenly, sounding amused rather than offended. "Am I boring you, Emma?" _Why was her voice sounding a little breathless?_

Emma could only shook her head. "On the contrary," she whispered, her own voice not working properly. "I just can't seem to focus with you looking as perfect as you do."

Regina raised her eyebrow. "Seems we share that problem," she rasped. "I've been simply babbling because my brain refuses to function properly." She pulled her hand away slightly and put a few bills on the table for their drinks. "Should we go somewhere more private?"

Emma jumped up. "I have a room not far from here."

o-o-o

There was something almost desperate to the way Regina was kissing her, touching her, Emma thought as her shoulder impacted heavily with the wall next to the door. Emma could barely do more than tangle her hands in dark hair and enjoy the ride for long, glorious moments, but then she started to give back as good as she got.

There was no finesse in the way they shed their clothes in their haste to just be naked together, no tenderness in the way their hands roamed the other's body, trying to touch anywhere, everywhere.

And Emma thought it was almost embarrassing just how fast and hard Regina made her come against the wall, clenching around Regina's long fingers, her name a loud, drawn-out moan. However, Emma grinned, her recovery time was just as fast, and before Regina could even think about smiling smugly about her prowess, Emma had turned the table and returned the favor.

o-o-o

Emma woke up sometime much later, feeling deliciously sore and very well sated. They had enjoyed each other time and time again until they both could hardly move and had simply fallen asleep in each other's arms. Or so Emma thought. Now, however, as she looked around in the soft glow of the moon that illuminated the room a little, she realized that Regina wasn't next to her anymore.

Emma sat up and looked at her watch, the only piece of clothing still on her body. _God, it was early. What was Regina doing up at 5am? And where was she? _

The door to the bathroom opened and Regina stopped inside the door when she saw Emma was awake. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't want to wake you." She paused. "I have to go."

Emma just nodded. It wasn't as if they had sworn each other eternal love and devotion last night. "I understand," she replied softly. But why did it hurt to see the other woman leave? "Will I see you again?" she couldn't help but ask.

"Emma." It was both sigh and warning, hope rebuilt and dashed in one breath. Then another sigh and a soft, "Maybe … who knows."

There was something in her tone that Emma couldn't identify, but there was nothing she could do about it anyway. She nodded again and searched her tired brain for something to say. "This night was amazing," was what she finally came up with.

Regina smiled sadly. "It was."

And then she was gone, leaving Emma to stare out the window into the waning moon.

o-o-o

Emma clung to her coffee, trying desperately not to check her watch every thirty seconds. She was sitting outside the Café Dimitrovna, overlooking the street, as she waited for the Evil Queen to show up with the package. She knew she needed to be focused, needed to be at her best when dealing with a dangerous woman like the Evil Queen, but all she could think about was Regina. Her smile, her eyes, the sounds she made when she came.

She checked her watch. _9:01am_.

"Excuse me," a very familiar voice suddenly came from the table next to her. "Is the apple pie here any good?"

Emma's head whipped around. "Regina?" she breathed. "You're …?"

The Evil Queen nodded, looking a little nervous.

"Did you know last night?" Emma wanted to know. "Was this all just a ploy to get me to … _do what_?"

"Emma," Regina said urgently. "We don't have time for this now." Emma's jaw clenched. "But yes, I did know who you were, and no, I didn't plan on what happened."

"You telling me you just found me irresistible?" Emma hissed, unable to shake the feeling of being used.

Regina bit her lip. "Actually, yes," she admitted. "But now I need you to focus on your job … _our_ job."

Emma straightened in her seat and nodded once, all business — or at least as professional as she could manage with how off-kilter she felt. "You have the package?"

Regina nodded, smiling enigmatically. Then she leaned back in her seat, revealing a small boy in the chair behind her. "Meet Henry," she whispered, running a tender hand through his hair. "He's your package … _We_ are the package."

**The End**

* * *

**Next up: School AU**


	5. High School: Crush

**Challenge on Infinite Earths / AU Challenge**

**Day 5: High School**

**Summary: Emma Swan is having a most miserable day. Until she doesn't.**

**Disclaimer: Not my characters. **

* * *

**Day 5 - High School: Crush**

Emma Swan pushed her thick-rimmed glasses a little higher up her nose as she focused on the droning of her insufferably boring teacher. If she didn't need this credit, she'd never show up for this wreck of a class. It also didn't help that the teacher was her mother … well, adoptive mother, a fact that she had always kept quiet. She loved her mother dearly, she did, but her Science class consisted of birds, birds, and birds again. And Emma _hated_ birds, had hated the damn things ever since her mom's pet parrot had bitten her when she was five.

But there was also a very good reason to actually show up in her mother's class every Friday after Study Hall: it was the only class she shared with Regina Mills.

_Queen Regina_, as she was known around the school.

_Just Regina_ in Emma's head.

Regina Mills was the girl who had it all — friends, success, money. Yet, from all her years of observing the object of her fascination, Emma had decided that there was a perpetual air of sadness about her that she normally managed to hide very well, and Emma sure as hell wasn't going to ask about it. She could just imagine what would happen if somebody approached Regina Mills and asked her if everything was okay.

The thing was, Emma had never actually _talked_ to Regina. Storybrooke High was a huge school, and this year was the first year they'd ever even had a class together, so it had always been easy to watch from a distance and develop this enormous crush on a girl she could never have.

Only it wasn't a crush.

Emma sighed. No, having a simple crush on Regina Mills would be too easy. She had to go and fall in love with her, and she wasn't even sure it had been over time — like normal people fell in love — and not just _bam_ that one moment in sophomore year when they had crashed into each other in the hallway. Which, sadly, had been the only time she had ever managed to get _that_ close to Regina.

Close enough to see the tiny gold flecks in the dark eyes, and take a good look at that curious, beautiful scar on her upper lip that she wanted to spend hours running her tongue over, again and again and again.

The bell rang and shocked Emma out of her trance. She had missed the entire class, had no idea what her mother had talked about, which of course would make for an interesting dinner conversation that night. Emma lived for the obstacle courses that were conversations with her mother about school.

Her hand stilled on her notepad and she wondered if a part of her brain had followed the class after all and had taken notes. One could hope, but no. Emma looked down and dropped her pencil in her hurried attempt to hide her notepad from view, but it was too late. A hand was already grabbing for it and pulling it from her desk.

"Well, well, look what Swan has been doing all class," Killian Jones shouted, drawing everyone's attention.

Including Regina's.

Everyone gathered around her desk to try and get a better look at the notepad that Killian held high above his head. There were lots of mean-spirited little laughs, and Emma let her head fall onto the desk. If she wasn't in the room, she could avoid being mortally embarrassed. _Right?_

"Looks like our little nerd has a thing for Regina," Belle pointed out loudly enough for it to reach everyone's ears, but her voice didn't sound as cruel as Emma had expected it to. The tittering and chattering grew to new heights at that juicy tidbit.

"Like most of the school does," Ruby yelled. She wasn't part of Regina's clique, was more of a free spirit, so Emma was mildly disappointed that she had joined in the teasing.

"Yeah, but unlike the rest of the school, the nerd doesn't stand a chance," Robin bellowed from the front of the class.

Emma growled low in her throat. She hated the quarterback with the burning passion of a thousand suns. He was always sniffing around Regina, even though the other girl hadn't shown any interest in him as far as Emma could tell. Maybe she had just been hiding it and they were an item after all? Emma's world sank and she blocked out all sounds, slipping deeper into a world of her own making, a world where she could just walk up to Regina Mills and tell her how beautiful she thought she was, and how much she would like to make sure that she was happy and smiling for the rest of her life.

Her brain refused to stay in the dream world, however, and she returned to the class room only moments later, although it was much quieter than it had been before. She could hear shuffling feet, and some grumbling, and then the door closed. With her luck, one of the teachers had been privy to her humiliation, which would double the fun at dinner tonight.

She raised her head, determined to at least face the music head on.

And came face to face with Regina Mills.

Regina who was holding her notepad in one hand, tracing the lines of the drawing Emma had done of her with two fingers of her other hand. Regina who was smiling for some unfathomable reason.

"I'm sorry," Emma mumbled, although she wasn't sure why.

Regina looked up from the drawing and met Emma's eyes. "Why? This is actually quite good," she said, and Emma couldn't detect any sarcasm in the deep, raspy voice that sounded much too old for a teenager.

Emma shrugged. "I don't know … for drawing you without your permission?" She hated that she turned into a squeaky mess when she was nervous. "For …"

Regina raised an eyebrow, and Emma could swear that this perfectly plucked eyebrow could hold whole conversations just by moving this way or that. "For?" Regina asked.

Emma blushed but couldn't come up with the words to say. So much for her dream world where she could talk to Regina and tell her.

"Emma," Regina said softly.

"You know my name?"

Regina chuckled. "Of course I do," she replied, and there was something in her voice that had Emma's ears perking up. "Was Belle right?"

Emma swallowed. "About what?"

Okay, Regina's eye rolls could join the eyebrows' conversation. "About you liking me?"

Emma was glad that she hadn't repeated Belle's stupider word choice. H_ere's your chance, Swan. Do it. Do. It._ But her throat constricted around the words, refusing to let them out. She swallowed three frogs, and then a fourth, but apparently she had become host to a whole army. She met Regina's eyes, trying to speak with her own eyes since her vocal chords refused to do their job.

"A little overwhelmed?" Regina teased with a small smirk, and Emma tensed up instantly. That was what she had been waiting for, the teasing, the taunting, being told just how unworthy she was. Regina seemed to notice, though, since she dropped her smirk in a second and looked serious again. "I never thought I'd have this whole conversation by myself, you know?" she said after a moment's pause, sounding a little frustrated.

That kicked Emma into working mode again. "What conversation?" she blurted. "Wait, you thought about having a conversation with me?"

Regina dropped the notepad on Emma's desk. "I have," she admitted quietly. "Look, would it help you to know that I like you too?"

Emma's eyes went wider than her mom's good dinner plates. "Truth?" was all she could get out.

Regina nodded. "You're a runner, right?"

Well, that was a complete non sequitur, but Emma went with it. This situation couldn't get any stranger anyway. "I am. Why?"

"Because I'm going to do something now, and I wanted to make sure you're not going to have a heart attack."

"No, my ticker's fine," Emma replied automatically. "What are you going to do?"

Instead of an answer, Regina simply gave her a patient smile that told Emma two things: one, Regina actually seemed to like her for some reason, and two, she thought Emma was a bit of an idiot.

"Kiss you, you idiot," Regina finally whispered, confirming both of Emma's deductions.

**The End**

* * *

**Next up: Mythical Creatures  
**


	6. Mythical Creatures: Black Unicorn

**Disclaimer: Not my characters.**

**Challenge on Infinite Earths / AU challenge**

**Day 6: Mythical Creatures**

**Summary: Princess Emma is out riding to escape her boring court life and comes across an unusual creature that behaves almost ... _human_.**

* * *

**Black Unicorn**

Princess Emma stopped her steed on the path when she heard a rustling in the underbrush not too far from her. She patted his neck and whispered soft words as she slowly and carefully slid one leather-clad leg over the saddle horn and dismounted fluidly, her boots only making a soft thud on the dirt road.

"Let's see what's hiding there, shall we?" she muttered, resting her hand lightly on the pommel of her sword. "Whoever's hiding in there, I suggest you come out," she called out, not really expecting an answer. Probably just that insufferable Robin Hood or one of his smelly, unbathed men.

There was more rustling, however, of something big getting louder and closer, something far bigger than just an outlaw. Unless of course it was Friar Tuck. Emma deemed it wise to take a step back, not wanting to take any chances. If she got into another scuffle with the outlaws, her mother would be very displeased. Then again, that wasn't a new thing with the White Queen, who thought her daughter too unkempt, unruly, and very much too un-Princess-like.

Snow wanted her to wear nice dresses and find a prince to marry — _"You're not getting any younger, Emma"_ — especially one that could further the prosperity of the White Kingdom — _"You know, the Sea Kingdom has great trade agreements with the far-off islands, don't you agree?"_ — and all Emma had wanted for all of her 25 years on this world had been freedom.

Independence.

Being allowed to be who she was.

The underbrush parted and revealed a large head, dark as night, and sticking from its forehead was a beautifully twisted gleaming black horn, about the length of Emma's arm from her elbow to the tips of her fingers. "B-But … that can't be …" Emma stammered at the sight. "You're a unicorn … a black unicorn … there are no black unicorns. Shouldn't have eaten those mushrooms Red gave me …"

The unicorn shook its head with a soft snort and Emma could have sworn that it rolled its dark, intelligent eyes at her. For some reason Emma had the feeling that the creature understood every word she said. Maybe the old tales were true and unicorns really _did_ have magic. "I should take you back home with me," she continued. "Snow loves unicorns."

As soon as she had uttered that last part, the unicorn turned away to vanish back into the woods. "Wait," Emma shouted, unwilling to have the enchanted meeting end so soon. She needed to explain that she didn't mean the creature any harm. "Snow is the Queen of the White Kingdom, you know," she said, feeling a little stupid about talking to an animal.

This time she could clearly see the eye roll. There was something practically human in the look the unicorn gave her. The creature blew her a raspberry, and Emma got the message loud and clear. "Well, that's a surprise," she said. "Usually all animals love Snow."

That earned her a definite shake of the head and a sound that smacked of indignation. _Stop treating this creature like a human being, Swan,_ Emma told herself. _It's a unicorn, not your new best friend_. But the thought of befriending this beautiful unicorn that hated her mother gave Emma a warm feeling inside and made her chuckle softly. "My mother would be so mad if she knew you didn't like her," she told the creature. "She's convinced every being loves her, man or animal." Emma winced a little at the trace of bitterness in her own tone.

The dark head cocked to the side, maybe in interest, maybe in question. "Snow is my mother," Emma told the unicorn, and if there was a little exasperation in her tone this time, she ignored it.

The creature gave her a very strange look, almost as if it was studying her, taking her measure. Emma got a little nervous because she was pretty certain that she wouldn't stand a chance if the majestic animal decided to charge at her from this close. They kept staring at each other for long, long moments before the unicorn closed its eyes for a second, only to meet Emma's eyes straight on with a sad look that tore at Emma's heart a moment later.

"Who are you?" Emma asked softly, as her hand reached out in pure reflex to touch the unicorn's sleekly muscular neck. "Who are you?" Her fingers made contact with the warm, soft side of the unicorn's neck. The silky feel of the black mane between her fingers was unlike anything Emma had ever felt, but before she could get even remotely used to the feeling or take another step closer, the unicorn reared up — carefully missing Emma — turned and ran away, disappearing into the underbrush a few yards down the road.

After a minute, the dust of the road settled and Emma began to wonder if she had imagined the encounter. Deep in thought, she mounted her white steed and rode back to the castle, her mind fixed on the magnificent creature the whole way.

o-o-o

Dinner that night was its usual formal affair with both the Queen and King and at least half the White Council in attendance. Emma didn't much care for these dinners at the best of times, but today her head was still in the forest. "So, what adventures did you go on today, Emma?" Red, Emma's godmother, asked. She knew how stifling the princess found court life.

Emma was torn from her thoughts but managed to recover quickly. "I was out riding …" she replied automatically, but stopped herself before revealing anything she wasn't ready to share. She remembered the unicorn's sad eyes and decided to keep its existence a secret from her mother.

Snow gave her a curious look across the table. "Did something happen when you were out riding, sweetie?" she asked loudly, drawing everyone's attention and Emma's ire. She hated being the center of attention, not to mention being called a syrupy pet name in front of half the council.

"No," she ground out through clenched teeth. "Nothing happened, mother."

"Are you sure?" Snow insisted. "You look a little ... flustered."

"Nothing. Happened. Mother," Emma repeated with as much finality in her tone as she could muster without sounding like a rebellious teenager.

Red leaned close enough to Emma to not be easily overheard. "Want to tell me what happened to you? Did you meet somebody?" She waggled her eyebrows playfully.

Emma had no idea why she was blushing at the implication. It wasn't like she'd had an illicit meeting with some guy in the woods. She sighed, at war with herself. She trusted Red and she desperately wanted to know if her godmother had ever heard of a black unicorn in the forest, but she really didn't want her mother to overhear her since the unicorn seemed to dislike her so much. "Have you ever seen a black unicorn?" she finally murmured, so low Red had to strain to hear it.

"A black unicorn?" Red asked back, much too loud for Emma's liking but it was too late now. "Are you saying that you saw the black unicorn today?" This question told Emma all she needed to know. The unicorn was special, and Red knew about it.

Snow dropped her fork on her plate, causing Emma to look at her and realize that her mother had lost all color. Apparently, Red's voice had been loud enough to be heard across the table. Snow eyed Emma like a hawk, and even David next to her looked suddenly worried. The rest of the table had fallen equally silent. "Did you just say that you saw a black unicorn?" Snow's voice was uncommonly sharp and slightly shrill.

Emma groaned._ Thank you, Red._ This was really not what she had hoped to gain by talking to Red, but she couldn't very well deny it now, although she was definitely going to try. "I'm not sure, really," she hedged. "I thought I did, but it could just as well have been a large horse. I only saw it from a great distance," she lied.

Snow's shoulders sagged in relief. "Yes, it was probably just one of those wild mountain horses that find their way down here to the forest sometimes," she said with a fake smile and a forced cheeriness that didn't fool anyone. "Just out of curiosity," she continued far too casually to be honest, "where exactly were you when you saw the ... horse?"

"About an hour's ride to the west, on that large meadow behind the lake," Emma replied, blatantly lying to her mother. Emma often relied heavily on her instincts, and right now every alarm bell in her mind screamed at her not to reveal the unicorn's true location.

Something about the mood around the table, the furtive looks between the council members and her parents, their forced smiles, their stares, told Emma that it would be a good idea to excuse herself from dinner. She had lost all appetite anyway, so she put down her cutlery and pushed her chair back noisily. "I'm quite tired," she explained as she stood from the table. "I think I'm going to go to bed."

She pretended to ignore the relief on her parents' faces as she turned and left. Outside, in the hallway, she took a sharp right turn and then another and ended up in an alcove behind an ugly stone statue of an imp. There, she opened a secret door and moved quietly to the listening spot she had discovered when she had been roaming the castle as a child. She doubted anyone but her knew about these hidden passages anymore, and she wondered — not for the first time — who had built them.

"Do you think she actually saw her?" was the first thing she heard Red ask once she was settled.

"I don't want to believe it," her father replied gravely, "but I guess it's possible."

"I had so hoped she'd have fallen prey to something by now," her mother's voice said sharply, and Emma raised an eyebrow at the vicious undertone. _And who was the she they were talking about?_ "We should have killed her outright all those years ago, not leave it to Rumpelstiltskin to transform her as punishment."

Emma gasped. _The unicorn had been a woman once? A woman who had made mortal enemies out of her parents? Who was she?_ She wished her spot afforded her a view of the table, so she could get some more visual clues.

"He must have added something to the spell," Grumpy growled. "Something to protect her and keep her alive."

"Too bad we can't ask him, seeing as Blue turned him into stone." That was Granny's acerbic tone, Emma realized. "I shudder every time I walk past that ugly statue in the hallway."

Emma looked back to the entrance of her secret passage. _That couldn't be, could it? Why would her parents use such dark magic as to turn people into mythical creatures or stone? Wasn't the Blue Fairy supposed to be doing good magic only?_

"What do we do about her?" Her father again.

There was a short pause. Then Snow spoke in a deadly voice. "We're going to send the hunters out tomorrow at first light," she told everyone. "She brought it on herself by coming this close to our castle. She should have known better."

"What do we tell Emma?" Red asked into the ensuing silence.

_Yes, mother, what are you going to tell me?_

"Why would we tell Emma anything?" Snow asked back. "All she saw was a black _horse_. She has no idea that the … creature she thought she might have seen was once the Evil Queen."

"People have long since forgotten about Queen Regina anyway, so Emma will have never even heard of her," Grumpy added with an audible shrug. "It's been 25 years after all."

"And I want it to stay that way." Snow's voice was adamant. "Red, I need you to go into the mountains and bring back a black horse that we can show Emma if she gets it in her adventurous mind to go out and find it again."

"I will lead the hunters tomorrow," Granny offered. "We'll hunt her down, don't worry."

Emma had heard enough to have her mind swirling. _The unicorn was the former queen? Someone she hadn't _ever_ heard about. No wonder she didn't like Snow. And she had been evil? What had she done that was so evil? Who _was_ she? _She had so many more questions now than even before dinner.

Emma quietly crept out of the hidden passage and walked quickly towards her room, but not without a long glance at the statue of the imp she had walked by without a second glance so many times before. Once in her room, she dressed in her most comfortable, warm riding clothes, packed a small leather satchel with things she thought she might need, grabbed her sword, and then climbed carefully out of the window.

She had to go find the black unicorn and save it.

She had to find _Regina_.

_Save_ Regina.

**The End**

* * *

**Next: Fairy Tales  
**


	7. Fairy Tale: Ring of Fire

**Challenge on Infinite Earths / AU challenge**

**Day 7: Fairy Tale**

**Summary: Regina is willing to risk her life to prove Princess Emma is her true love, so she can finally meet her for the first time.**

**Disclaimer: Not my characters. And parts of the plot were borrowed from the Ring Trilogy from Xena's S6)**

**A/N: If you watched Xena, you might recognize the Ring of Fire ...**

* * *

**Ring of Fire**

"Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess named Emma," the young man told the two small children cuddled up in the bed before him. "She was adventurous and independent and did many things princesses weren't supposed to do, but she had a good heart and the people in the kingdom loved her."

The two girls giggled, maybe because they recognized themselves in the fairy tale princess. The man ran his hand through their fine hair, one head blonde, one dark brown. "When the princess became of age, she had many suitors, but she didn't want any of them."

The two girls shook their heads wildly.

"One of the suitors was a powerful wizard who wouldn't take no for an answer and kidnapped the princess while she was out riding with a few of her friends. He took her to his evil lair to keep her for himself, hidden away from the world, but Princess Emma was determined to escape and …"

"She did!" the girls yelled.

"Yes, she did." The man smiled. "Unfortunately, the wizard was a vengeful man and he went after the princess. When he caught her, she fought him hard, and when the wizard realized that she would rather die than be with him, he decided that if he couldn't have her, then nobody ever would."

"What he do to de pwincess?" one girl asked, eyes wide. It didn't matter that they had heard the story many, many times. This part always had them scared.

"He cursed the princess into a deep sleep, then laid her to rest on a rock in the mountains," the man continued in a low voice. "Then he surrounded the rock with a wall of eternal flames higher than a house and cursed the flames as well. Only Emma's true love could ever cross the wall of flame and wake the princess, and he was sure she would never find one hidden behind her wall of fire."

"That was mean," the other little girl said with a pout.

"It was," the young man agreed easily. "And so for many, many years people told the story of the princess behind the wall of fire, and many young men from all the kingdoms tried their luck and burned to death. But over the years fewer and fewer princes and knights tried until only the most courageous or the most foolish tried to brave the flames."

"That's not good."

"No, that's not good at all, and soon the story of the princess moved into the realm of legends, as a story to tell little children before bedtime. And one such child was determined to wake the sleeping princess because she had fallen in love with her while listening to her story."

"Did she make it, dada?"

"What do you think?" their father asked with a small chuckle. "Let me tell you the rest."

o-o-o

Regina pulled her pack tighter against her shoulders to distribute the weight better. She had to leave her horse at the foot of the mountain because the pass was too narrow and steep for the big animal. With a sigh she had whispered a few words into its ear and had sent it to wait for her in a safe spot. If she didn't come back before the first snow, her horse knew to return home to her father's stables.

She let out a puff of air, suddenly feeling very much alone. Not only was she far away from home on a very uncertain adventure, but her horse had been her best friend for so many years that she missed it fiercely, and not only because its body usually provided some extra warmth. Regina pulled her cloak tighter around her upper shoulders and grimaced against the biting wind. She was really beginning to look forward to the wall of fire at the top of the mountain, if only to feel warm again.

Around the next bend in the path she was surprised to see a fire burning inside the mouth of a small cave. As she drew nearer, unable to resist the draw of the warmth it promised, she saw that there seemed to be several men inside the cave or near the fire, either sitting or reclining on their bedrolls. Regina slowed her steps and approached the men carefully, ready to run quickly if she had to. Her fingertips tingled in response to the adrenaline she felt coursing through her body but magic was always the last resort.

"Ah, a fellow traveler," one of the men yelled out. "The mountain is busy tonight ... but I certainly didn't expect such lovely company around my fire." She could see the smirk even under his scraggly beard.

"My fire you mean, Hook," a second, scruffy-looking man commented dryly before addressing Regina. "You're welcome to join us, milady." He sent a smirk to Hook and they both grinned. "Before you head back down the mountain tomorrow."

Regina stepped closer. "Why would I do that?" she asked. "Head back? I came this far, I won't turn around now."

The first man, Hook, scoffed. "You're a woman, lass."

"You don't think I've noticed that?" Regina raised an eyebrow at him as she dropped her pack by the fire.

"Baelfire here is right," Hook said after taking a long draft from his pipe. "Each of us here is on a mission to free the Princess of the Flames from her fiery prison."

"So am I."

Baelfire laughed. "You must not have listened to the story right, girl," he mumbled. "This calls for her true love, her prince in shining armor."

Regina looked at both men in turn with a doubtful look at their attire. "Shining armor, huh?" she remarked, her words drenched in sarcasm, but before she could add something else, a third men spoke up from the darkness of the cave.

"Leave her be," the man said as he stepped out of the darkness and closer to the light of the fire. He was wearing a green tunic with a hood pulled down to his eyes. "The lass has as much right to burn herself in those flames as we do." He turned to Regina. "Be welcome at our fire, lady. We will share whatever food we have."

"I volunteer to keep you warm as well, sweet lass," Hook added, ogling her body.

Regina was taken aback. "I thought you were on a quest to free your true love from the flames," she asked.

Hook guffawed. "You don't actually believe that nonsense, do you?" He chuckled and shook his head. "These fools believe it too but me and my men," he pointed deeper into the cave, "we're here for the glory. There has to be a trick to extinguishing the flames ... we just have to find it."

Regina shrugged before relaxing a little and settling down by the fire across from Hook. If he believed that, she wouldn't even try to convince him otherwise. "And once you've rescued the princess? What then?"

Hook relaxed on his bedroll. "Then my men and I will share the treasure that has to be hidden with the princess," he said casually. "Why else would someone create the flames? A woman alone is not worth that much trouble."

Regina was excused from replying when the hooded man sat down to her right and handed her a bowl of steaming stew. "Ignore Hook and eat," he said. "The stew isn't much but it is worlds better than the pirate's ramblings of lost treasures."

"Thank you, ..." Regina gave him a pointed look.

"Robin," the man said with a smile. "Robin Hood."

Regina had heard of him, of course. The famous thief who robbed the rich to give to the poor. "Fine company tonight," she said with teasing smile. "A thief, a pirate, and a ..." she looked at Baelfire.

"Another thief, I'm afraid," Baelfire said with a shrug. "No need to fret though, lass ... you don't exactly look like you're carrying the sort of riches we're looking for."

After that, conversation dwindled down to the occasional murmur about the weather and the unexpected cold this early in the year. Regina was quite happy with that since she had no plans to correct Baelfire's assumptions about her nor Hook's thought about some fabled treasure. She knew better, and she was ever more determined to be the one to rescue the princess. She smiled as she lay down inside her bedroll, dagger in hand, as she thought about the next day. She certainly wasn't going to try getting through the flames first.

o-o-o

Regina had seen fire in what she had thought to be all its forms, but the wall of flames they were faced with at the top of the mountain was different. She studied the wall of fire and was surprised to see it felt almost … sentient. The flames were _definitely_ feeling something, and also trying to feel them. They seemed almost happy to see them, but Regina couldn't figure out if they were happy about new victims or about being finally freed from having to only fulfill this one purpose.

The men naturally didn't pause at all in the haste to get to what they thought was a treasure. They didn't see the beauty in the flickering light that hid the princess from view. But, Regina saw without being surprised, of course they weren't willing to risk their own skin first.

"Smee," Hook called over one of his men. "Go try it."

"But I'm not anybody's true love," Smee protested as he took several steps back down the mountain pass.

"How many times do I have to tell you worthless lot that the whole true love thing is just a legend to make little girls sigh?" Hook snarled.

Smee pointed at Regina. "She believes it."

Hook glared at her, but Regina only shrugged. "I do."

"So why don't you go first?"

"Because I'm not done watching the show," Regina explained with a smirk, and promptly sat down on a dead log. Her eyes went back to the flames, searching out their intent, trying to communicate her good intentions. _I just want to be with the princess, _she told the fire in her mind. _Just be with her, and I don't even care if it's in there with her. Just let me through so I can kiss her just once?_

She wondered if she imagined the flames sudden flickering at her thoughts, but she was interrupted by Hook, who was dragging another of his men close to the flames. Seemingly, Smee was more intelligent than she had given him credit for.

"Your turn, Felix," Hook said and pushed the young man into the fire. The flames let out an almost beastly yell as they instantly devoured the new fodder. It had gone hungry for far too many moons. Regina shivered at the deafening roar and the smell of burnt flesh.

Hook stared at the point where Felix had been turned into a small pile of ash. "Huh," he muttered. "I guess it won't be as easy as that then." He looked around, only to see the rest of the men drop their packs and run back where they'd come from, leaving only himself, Baelfire, and Robin.

Robin looked between the fire, Hook, and Regina, then smiled. "Well, milady," he finally addressed her. "I think I'm going to cut my losses right here. I'm not in the market for a fiery burial today." He held out a hand to her. "Why don't you come along with me and I'll show you a good time in my forest home."

Regina snorted and shook her head. "Have a safe trip down," she told him. "My destiny, whatever it may turn out to be, lies behind those flames."

Robin Hood shrugged with a grin and took his leave. Regina wished the pirate and the other thief would follow his example, but they were too busy staring at each other to even notice that he was leaving.

"Why don't you try it," Baelfire goaded Hook. "You're the one who doesn't believe in the legend."

"And you do?" the pirate shot back.

"Indeed I do," the thief replied calmly.

"Then be my guest," Hook said, making a sweeping gesture towards the fire. "Prove it."

Regina watched with interest as Baelfire took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. Then he took a careful step forwards, arms outstretched, ready to draw it back if the fire found him disagreeable. As soon as his hand got close to the flames, he realized he wasn't what the fire had been looking for, and he quickly tried to withdraw his hand. The flames weren't having it and reached out to grab his arm and pull.

Regina pressed her hands against her ears to mute the inhuman cries the thief let out as the flames consumed him, and she was glad it was over quickly.

She could hear Hook swallow from where she was sitting, and the look on his face was nothing like the brazen pirate he had been up to this moment. "I … I think," he stuttered. "I guess I'm going to try my luck elsewhere." He turned and ran, faster than Regina had thought possible.

Finally alone.

Regina opened her pack and pulled out an apple, bright red and juicy. Now that the distraction were gone, she was in no hurry. By the end of the day she would either be dead or united with her true love, and she wasn't going to test the flames without tasting one of her apples first. They had always brought her happiness and maybe a bit of luck.

She felt the fire watching her as she quietly sat and ate. It was licking out at her, beckoning her closer, its intent unreadable. She stood slowly, swallowing her last bite, then tossed the apple core into the fire on impulse. She couldn't be sure, but it looked to her as if it went straight through the flames.

Regina took steady steps towards the flame, her smile growing wider and wider with every inch she got closer and didn't burn. In fact, she realized as she stood just outside the ring of fire, she couldn't feel any heat coming from the flame at all. With one last thought for her father, she stepped into the eternal flame.

And walked right through it.

It only took her two more long steps to get to the rock on which the princess rested. Regina gasped at the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Her long blonde hair was fanned out beneath her head, covering the slate of rock. Her alabaster skin had a golden hue from the flames that still burned around them. Regina smiled at the leather riding clothes the princess wore. She looked just like she had in her dreams.

Regina reached out with one hand to touch Princess Emma's cheek, which was warm and so very soft, and Regina imagined waking up every morning of her life next to this sleeping beauty. Drawn by the pink lips and the desire to see if Emma's eyes were the same shade of bluish green she had seen in her dreams, Regina leaned in to kiss her princess.

An avalanche of images from a life she couldn't remember living yet flooded her mind. She could see herself and Emma, dancing together in a huge ballroom, out riding through the woods, enjoying early mornings cuddling in bed. Everything was exactly like it had been in her dreams, but it felt like so much more. Regina reared back. "How is this possible?"

Emma slowly opened her eyes, the same eyes Regina would recognize anywhere in the world. "Regina." Her voice showed both awe and lack of use. "You came for me."

"How do you know my name?" Regina asked, thoroughly confused. "How did you know I would come?"

"I dreamed of you," Emma whispered. "I've been waiting for you for a long, long time." She reached out and cupped Regina's face in her hands. "My love."

Regina couldn't help but lean in and kiss those lips again. And again and again and again until they were both gasping for breath. "I dreamed of you too," she finally muttered when they parted for a moment. "I've been dreaming of you all my life. I'm sorry it took me so long to get here."

Emma smiled brilliantly. "It's fine," she said soothingly. "I lived in our dreams until you were old enough to come find me. And now we can _live_ those dreams."

Regina answered with a smile of her own. "Did we truly share our dreams?" she wondered aloud.

Emma didn't reply, just leaned in and kissed her again.

o-o-o

"And they lived happily ever after," the young man ended the story with a smile at his two daughters.

"Ever after," the blonde child echoed.

"And that's how grandma and granny met," the brunette added to bring the story to its usual conclusion.

"Indeed it was," King Henry agreed. "Sleep now, my little princesses."

He blew out the candles on his way to the door, a smile on his face.

**The End**

* * *

**Next: Futuristic**


	8. Futuristic: Afterlife

**AU Challenge / Challenge on Infinite Earths**

**Day 8: Futuristic**

**Summary: Commander Regina Mills goes to Afterlife to recruit the mysterious Emma Swan and gets more than she expected.  
**

**Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my location.**

**A/N: Crossover with Mass Effect because reasons. ****Inspired by a fake movie poster I once made.**** :)**

* * *

**Title: Afterlife**

Afterlife was pulsing with the insistent beat of the music and the rhythm of the people moving to it on the different dance floors. As always, Regina stopped just inside the door to get her bearings, to let her body adjust to the onslaught of sights and sounds. As usual, she wished she could be back on the Normandy, in her quarters or enjoying a drink and a poker game with her crew in the lounge.

"Aria's business seems to be booming despite the war raging on outside." Regina could only hear Liara's voice through her comm system even though the Asari was standing right next to her.

She nodded. "I'd say it's booming _because_ of the war raging outside of these walls."

"Most humans like to avoid dealing with unpleasantness," Zaeed added, distaste written all over his features. Then again, it could have been the scars that made him look like that. Regina hadn't known him long enough to be able to really tell yet.

"Liara, you're with me," Regina ordered. "We're going to pay Aria a visit." She turned to the other two team members. "Zaeed and Miranda, you scope out the place and find our mark. Remember, the dossier said she'd be hard to find, even in plain sight."

o-o-o

"Aria," was all Regina said in greeting.

The imposing Asari simply nodded. "What brings you to Omega this time? Recruiting _again_ in my domain?"

Regina rolled her eyes. "Don't pretend you don't like my presence," she shot back with a smirk. "I'm looking for someone … a woman named Emma Swan."

Aria cocked her head. "If you continue to use my club as your recruiting office, I should charge you for the privilege." There was no real bite behind the words, however. "She should be here tonight," she added slowly, her tone slightly less bored than usual.

So Emma Swan had even Aria intrigued. Regina raised an eyebrow as she wondered what made the woman so special. "Any idea where she likes to hang out?"

"She likes dancing," was all Aria said in reply, which wasn't particularly helpful considering that Afterlife had a dozen dance floors or more. Aria saw the impatient look on Regina's face. "Even if I told you exactly which dance floor she prefers, it wouldn't help you. She could be dancing right next to you and you wouldn't see her if she didn't want you to."

Regina grunted. She hated missions like these. "How—"

"She knows you're coming for her, I assume," Aria continued. "Go to the main dance floor and enjoy yourself, Commander. Let her come to you."

Regina knew a dismissal when she heard one so she got to her feet and left Aria's little haven. "Enjoy myself," she grumbled under her breath, but Liara heard it through the comm.

"It would be good for you to let loose for once," the Asari commented mildly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're wound tighter than a cobra poised to attack, Commander," Liara explained, eyes sincere. "Since it seems you have to anyway, why not relax and enjoy yourself?"

o-o-o

The main dance floor was packed, just like all the other dance floors, and the music here was even louder than anywhere else in the club. Regina could feel it in every cell of her body, could sense the vibration inside. It was oddly freeing, and she wondered if that was the allure, the reason why Emma Swan apparently came here every night.

Soon, even these minor thoughts vanished as the beat took over and her body began to move with it. Her eyes closed of their own volition as she let the music take over. Liara watched from the edge of the dance floor and smiled at her uptight commander moving sensuously to the music, and tried hard not to let it affect her. They had dabbled in a little romance before Regina's death and subsequent resurrection but had soon realized that they made much better friends than lovers. That didn't mean, however, that Liara didn't feel a little hot under her collar watching her friend and commanding officer writhing to the music.

Despite that, she continued to watch over her, as was her duty. Then, all of a sudden, there was a shimmer next to the commander, a blur that soon revealed itself as the form of a blonde, stunningly beautiful woman. Liara couldn't take her eyes off the two women but before long she began to feel slightly uncomfortable at what she was seeing. Not that this kind of thing wasn't happening all around her as well — this was Afterlife, after all — but the other people weren't someone she was intimately familiar with. She turned her back to the sight and scanned the crowd for Zaeed and Miranda.

When she turned back around, Regina and their target were gone.

o-o-o

Regina was actually beginning to enjoy herself when she felt the very air around her change. She opened her eyes to see and came face to face with the most beautiful woman she had ever met. Long blonde hair framed a perfect face, but it was the eyes that really drew her in as they seemed to change color with the changes in the lighting around them. The picture in her dossier really didn't do this woman justice.

Regina swallowed, her throat suddenly incredibly dry. "Emma Swan?" she asked, leaning in close so she could be heard.

The vision before her nodded, then leaned in even closer. "Commander Regina Mills, I presume," she stated directly into Regina's ear, her breath caressing her earlobe. And was that a tongue? Regina shivered. "Let's dance."

"We need to talk," Regina tried.

Emma Swan just shook her head and gave her a wild grin. Then she started dancing.

Regina swore the temperature inside the club increased exponentially with the way Emma Swan was moving to the music. Her whole body was part of it as she closed her eyes and gave herself over to the beat. Regina couldn't do anything but move with her. As she closed her eyes, letting loose, letting herself go, she could feel Emma moving in front of her, next to her, behind her, all around her.

She could feel Emma against her back, grinding against her, into her from behind. She could feel the woman's hard nipples pressing into her upper back even through their clothes. A long arm snaked around her body, and a hand suddenly ran along her torso, touching everywhere, enticing, beguiling, but somehow never quite enough. Regina moaned low in her throat, glad that nobody could hear, wondering what kind of spell Emma was weaving over her. Was she fully human? What kind of power was that?

She must have tensed in Emma's arms because the next thing she knew the other woman pressed herself even closer into her and nuzzled into her neck. "Relax." Regina could feel the low command more than she could hear it, and her body was helpless to do anything but follow it. "That's right," the voice continued. "Just enjoy yourself."

Both of Emma's hands were now running over her body, tracing patterns in time with the music. Other bodies kept jostling into them on the crowded dance floor but neither of them cared. Regina reached behind her with one hand just to touch, to feel connected to reality, and ended up pulling Emma impossibly closer by her hip. Her other hand reached up to tangle in blonde curls. She turned her head to the side in a silent expression of need and their lips met in a wild, hot kiss that seared the last of Regina's functioning brain cells.

They kissed relentlessly, furiously, wetly, trading nips and sucks with almost playful back and forths until Regina couldn't take the awkward angle anymore and turned in Emma's arms to get even closer. Their kiss never stopped while Regina turned, but as soon as they were facing each other, they parted for a breath and then just stared into the other's eyes. "I don't ever do this kind of thing," Regina heard herself say. "I usually have more control."

To her surprise Emma smiled and Regina could have sworn the color in her cheeks intensified. "I don't either," Emma admitted, speaking directly into Regina's mouth. "I know you don't believe me," she continued when she saw the skeptical look on Regina's face. "But I've watched you since you came in here tonight. I knew you were coming for me … I just didn't know you'd be so damn beautiful. I couldn't help myself."

Regina's hand unconsciously went to the scars on her face. "You're the one who's beautiful," she whispered, but Emma heard her anyway. "I'm just a banged-up old soldier."

Emma kissed her softly and ran her tongue over the scar on Regina's lip. "You've lived," she said when they parted once more. "You've died. You've fought for your life and that of everyone in the galaxy. Believe me, that is beautiful to me."

Then she closed the minute distance between them again and words ceased to exist in the space surrounding them. These kisses were different, slower, gentle, almost tender even. Exploring rather than plundering, giving rather than taking, and the coil of tension in Regina's lower belly tightened to an almost uncomfortable degree. She needed to touch and be touched in return, and sooner rather than later, or she might just spontaneously combust right here on the dance floor. She doubted Aria would appreciate that.

"I want you," Emma breathed into her ear, nipping the ear lobe, running her tongue along the sensitive skin before moving lower, to the neck, inadvertently discovering the spot that drove Regina even wilder. "I need to feel you," Emma continued, and Regina could feel her words vibrate from Emma's chest to hers. "I need you. I've waited so long for you."

Regina had no idea what Emma meant by those words, but she felt them just the same. "Yes," she moaned. "Let's get out of here, somewhere a little more private." She tried to disentangle herself from Emma but the other woman wouldn't let go. "We can't walk like this," Regina chuckled with a slight groan, leaning into Emma's touch. If they didn't move to the Normandy soon, she'd take Emma right here, no matter the consequences. Knowing Aria, she'd probably only charge her patrons extra for the show.

"Walking takes too long," Emma rasped against Regina's clavicle. "I can get us there faster."

Regina threw her head back to give Emma better access and pressed her head closer with both hands wrapped in silky blonde hair. "How?"

"Have your pilot lower the shields," Emma replied, not letting up, nipping and sucking, leaving tiny marks on Regina's body.

Regina stopped all movements. "What?"

Emma sighed. "I can take us to the Normandy," she explained softly, looking straight into Regina's eyes, trying to convey that she wasn't planning anything sinister. "But not when the shields are up."

Regina hesitated. She was so incredibly turned on that she would do almost anything to get off at this point, but risking her ship? And with it her crew? That could be taking it a little too far.

"Trust me," Emma pleaded. "Because I really want you and I don't know how long I can maintain control of myself and my powers if we don't go right fucking now."

Regina studied Emma's face and eyes, and suddenly felt a sense of calm. She had no idea why, but she knew this was meant to happen. This were meant to be. She activated her comm link to the ship. "Joker, lower the shields."

"You sure, Commander?" her pilot asked.

"I'm sure," she replied, looking into Emma's eyes.

"How long?" Joker's disembodied voice asked.

"Fifteen seconds," Regina replied after reading the time from Emma's lips.

"Shields are down."

"Think of your quarters." Emma wrapped herself around Regina and suddenly everything around them began to shimmer in a bright light. Regina closed her eyes against it and focused on the feel of Emma in her arms and her quarters on the Normandy. Just as quickly as it had started, it was over, and when Regina opened her eyes, she found herself standing next to her bed in her quarters, Emma in her arms.

"You can teleport," Regina stated, slightly shocked. "I didn't know people could do that."

Emma shrugged, a small blush covering her cheeks. "I can if I want it badly enough."

"And you did want it badly enough, it seems." Regina smiled and cupped Emma's face before leaning in for a soft kiss that quickly ignited into something much more intense.

"You have no idea," Emma panted as they parted for breath.

"We really have a lot to talk about." Regina had no idea where that came from and from the incredulous look on Emma's face, neither did she.

"We will talk," Emma replied with a smile. "Once we're not both turned on almost to the point of no return, Commander."

With that, she pushed Regina onto the bed and crawled after her, dropping kisses everywhere she could reach.

Talking would just have to wait.

**The End**


	9. Aliens: Interstellar Diplomacy

**AU Challenge / Challenge on Infinite Earths**

**Day 9: Aliens**

**Summary: Emma Swan has always been an adventurer, so it's not surprising that she's flouting all the rules just to talk to the most beautiful woman she has ever seen. Even if Earthfolk aren't meant to approach that particular species ...**

**Disclaimer: Not my characters.**

**A/N: Since one of them is an alien in this story, some OOCness might occur.**

* * *

Her skin was shimmering, Emma Swan decided. The woman's skin was _actually_ shimmering in a soft golden brown in a way that made the color change depending on the angle from which you looked at her. Emma was currently staring straight at her, but she really couldn't help it. She had never seen a Magican of exactly that coloring; most of them were either a creamy white or a dark shade of chocolate brown.

Emma decided today was the day she had to meet the woman. _Right fucking now. _To hell with rules.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" a cool voice greeted her with disdain.

Emma fought the urge to look at her feet or take a step or two back. She was already too close to the Magican and it would be well within the woman's rights to call over the law and have Emma removed from her presence.

"Hi," Emma said in greeting. And for the first time she wondered what the universal translator actually turned that into.

The woman mustered her from head to toe but refrained from calling over the marshal Emma could see on the next corner. "Hi?" It sounded almost like a question.

Emma had to fight not to ramble or swoon but damn that woman's voice did things to her insides even with that one syllable. Maybe that was the reason they usually didn't talk to Earthfolk like her. "Yeah, hi," she said blithely. "It's an Earth greeting."

"I know what it means." The reply was stilted and the woman looked uncomfortable.

"Oh, good." Emma swallowed. "My name is Emma, Emma Swan," she continued.

The woman looked at her as if she had two heads.

"That was an introduction," Emma explained in case that was the problem. She had never heard of Earthfolk getting this far into a conversation with a Magican. "I gave you my name, and the usual response would be to give me your name in return." She held out her hand. "And we normally shake each other's hands."

"Your designation is Emma Emma Swan?" The woman asked or said but Emma found it hard to read her inflection. She also stared at Emma's hand as if it could jump up and bite her, but after long, long moments she reached out with her own hand and placed it in Emma's. The touch made Emma's skin tingle and she shivered a little, trying hard not to get lost in the feeling. She almost missed the Magican's next words. "My designation is Regina."

Emma squeezed her hand a little harder and smiled. First step done. "It's called a _name_," she corrected, "and mine is just Emma Swan."

"Did you halt my progress down this hallway for a specific purpose, Emma Swan?"

Emma still held onto the hand, slowly getting used to the tingles. "I've been seeing you around the station and you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and … and … I just wanted to meet you."

Regina's head tilted to the right. "Why? Your kind do not talk to my kind unless you need us to solve some problem."

Emma's eyes widened. "Wait, I was always told that we were not _allowed_ to approach you because you were above our station."

"Above your station?" She looked around the dark gray surrounding them. "What do you mean?"

"Not _this_ station," Emma explained with a light laugh. "I was told not to talk to Magicans because you thought you were better than us."

Regina rolled her dark eyes. "We are merely different," she said slowly. "My kind are told that you do not approach us because of our powers which are hard to explain and scare you unless you need them."

Emma gave her a bright smile, even as she was shaking her head in wonder at the new information. "How about we go and have some coffee together and change that?" she offered. "Do Magicans even drink coffee?"

Regina smiled and Emma thought the station gray around them got a few shades brighter. "You have not had coffee unless you have tried Magican coffee."

"Oh," Emma sighed. "Is there a place around here that serves it?"

Regina studied her once more, and suddenly a slightly predatory look entered her face. "The only place I know is the galley on my ship," she hinted, voice even lower than before. "Would you like to continue your brazen streak and accompany me there?"

The tingling in Emma's hand intensified and sparks were racing up and down her arms, traveling down her spine and curling in her lower abdomen. "Are you doing that?" she gasped.

"No, Emma Swan," Regina whispered back. "_We_ are doing that." The slight tremble in her voice told Emma that the Magican was as affected as she was. "And if you join me, there could be more of that."

Emma didn't have to think twice. "Lead the way," she said, although she was pulling Regina by the hand. "Let's do our best to improve the understanding between our species."

o-o-o

Emma had never seen the inside of a Magican ship. Hell, nobody she knew had ever been on one due to the apparent misconception that they didn't mix with other species. She looked around in awe at the shimmering walls — the same kind of shimmer that showed on Magicans' skin — as Regina led the way through the ship. When they stopped, Emma realized that they were in a room that was anything but a galley.

"This is your kitchen?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

Regina gave her a look. "Was the galley really the room you were interested in seeing?"

Caught, Emma blushed. "Not really, no," she admitted, "although I'm still interested in tasting your coffee." She saw Regina hold up her hand as if to summon something and grabbed the hand to stop her. "Later."

"Very well."

The smile on Regina's face was both predatory and unsure, a combination Emma had never seen before. It was alluring, to say the least. "Sooo …" Emma dragged out the word. "What do we … How do we …?"

Regina's smile lost the predatory edge and was now merely unsure. "Do you not know how to copulate?"

Emma couldn't help herself; she burst out laughing. "Is that what you're calling it?"

For the first time since their meeting, a look of real irritation crossed Regina's face. "Of course not," she retorted. "But our language is too complex, too intricate for the universal translators you Earthfolk use, so it turns everything into almost … technical terms."

"Oh," Emma breathed. "That's sad."

"There is a way," Regina said hesitantly. "To make you understand … if you wanted to feel our language."

"Feel?"

Regina huffed. "Much like our skin and most of our materials," she pointed around the room, "our language is ever-moving, ever-changing, almost like a living being. It is felt more than heard, and it's hard to explain."

"Then show me," Emma said immediately. "Unless it involves invasive surgery or something, I mean."

Regina shook her head with a grin and raised her hands to cup Emma's face. The tingles Emma had felt before suddenly infused her whole body, and she groaned at the feeling as her body reacted instantly. Then Regina leaned her forehead against Emma's. Suddenly, a stream of colors and sounds entered Emma's mind, opening new pathways, Regina's mind mingling with hers in an almost too intimate dance. Emma tried to stop her baser thoughts about Regina, but judging from the Magican's moan she wasn't successful.

Before Emma could think about what she was doing, she tilted her hand and brought their mouths together in a fiercely possessive kiss, hard and demanding, making it clear what she wanted. Her body was more aroused than it had ever been, and they hadn't even seen each other naked or touched each other yet. Emma's mind almost short-circuited when she imagined what would happen once they did.

Regina never let go of Emma's face, although she was more than surprised when the Earth woman pressed their lips together in what Earthfolk called a kiss. It was a strange feeling to her but not unpleasant, and she mimicked the movements of Emma's lips as best she could. The moan she heard, and the way a pair of hands ran all over her body, felt like approval to her, so she intensified her mind to give back to Emma.

The Magican reached out with her mind, delving ever deeper, until she could feel the response not just in Emma's mind but also her body. The tingling all over her body intensified, telling her that this would all be over soon, quicker than anything she had expected. She had never copulated with anything other than Magican partners but even she knew that this solid of a connection was rare, especially outside her species. Her thumbs caressed Emma's face as magic streamed between them, bringing them ever higher, ever closer to what she now knew would be an explosive release.

Emma tore her lips from Regina's when the tingles intensified, almost blowing her mind with arousal. She could stars behind her eyelids, explosions of different colors. She was soaked and pressed her legs together to get some friction before she realized that it wasn't necessary since her mind provided all the friction she needed. She pulled Regina closer, aligning their bodies all the way from top to toes, and gave herself over to the feeling. As soon as she let go, everything got even brighter, hotter, wetter, and a scant second later, Emma came with a hoarse cry, diving head first into an orgasm that didn't seem to end. "Oh, fuck."

Regina was pulled right along with Emma. Her mouth open in a silent cry, a drawn-out groan, and a final expulsion of magic and energy towards Emma.

And then they both tumbled to the ground in a sweaty and exhausted heap as Regina let go of Emma's face with a regretful sigh.

It took Emma several minutes to come back to her senses but when she did it was with a wide grin on her face and a feeling of pure relaxed elation. "I'm assuming here that this was more than just showing me your language," she murmured with a smile. "So this is how you do it?"

"It did indeed turn into more," Regina replied softly. "I'm sorry … but you were so responsive … I was surprised and then …" She rolled her head so she could see Emma. "I take it from your question that you don't do it like this?"

Emma didn't see Regina's lips moving and realized she could hear her in her mind, probably an aftereffect of the amazing connection and orgasm they had just experienced. She decided to see if she could reply in her thoughts as well. _No, this was new to me._

Regina nodded. _I hope it was okay._

"Very much so," Emma breathed happily._ It was beautiful. Would you like to experience how Earthfolk have sex?_

_Have sex?_

_Copulate_, Emma amended. _Make love, _she added in her brain, hoping she could keep that one to herself. She reached out to run her fingers from Regina's throat to her pubic bone. _Touch each other to feel good. Everywhere._

Regina's eyes softened as she nodded once, barely able to conceal the shiver that ran through her body. "Teach me."

So Emma did.

And later she even got to try the best coffee in all the known galaxies.

**The End**

* * *

**Next: Coffee Shop AU**


	10. Coffee Shop: Late

**AU Challenge / Challenge on Infinite Earths**

**Day 10: Coffee Shop AU**

**Summary: Emma Swan is waiting for her favorite customer but Regina is late.**

** Disclaimer: Not my characters. **

* * *

Emma checked her watch. 8.03. _She was late. Why was she late? Why today of all days? _

Today, when Emma had finally decided that today would be _the day_?

The customer at the front of the line cleared his throat a second time. "Tall cappuccino to go. Please."

"Sure," Emma said distractedly, her eyes going back to the door every few seconds. "Anything else? $3.95. Next?"

Five minutes and three customers later, — two of whom couldn't make up their mind about their order for the longest time — Emma was biting her lip in worry. _What if something _had_ happened? What if she had an accident and is lying somewhere completely helpless?_

At 8.15 there was a short lull, and Emma spent the quiet minute staring between the clock on the wall and the door, her hand unconsciously playing with the short apron she wore to protect her one really nice shirt.

"Swan!" Mulan yelled from the kitchen. "Need some help here. _Now._"

Emma sighed dejectedly and walked into the back with one last look over her shoulder, missing the moment the door opened by a mere second.

Ruby smirked as she looked up from the Mastrena coffee machine she was working on. For a moment she contemplated calling Emma back but she knew that whatever Mulan had needed her for was probably more urgent than Emma making the perfect coffee for the woman who had just come in, even if she was one of their most regular customers.

She decided instead to watch the woman as she looked around their small coffee shop, her face slowly turning from a harried smile to a frown. And Ruby could have sworn she heard a small sigh. _That's what you get for being late, lady._

"Morning," Ruby greeted with a wide smile. "What'll it be?" she added as if she didn't know the order by heart. _Everybody_ in the coffee shop knew Regina Mills' order by heart, and _still_ Emma was the only one who got it perfectly right, and thus made it every time.

"Skinny hazelnut latte … _two_ extra shots."

Ruby's eyes widened. _Okay, that was different._ "Whoa, it's that kind of morning, is it?"

"You have no idea," came the uncharacteristic response. "Where's … Is E-Em—your coworker not here today?"

_Well, well, _Ruby thought as she took Regina's money and got started on her order. Maybe Emma's crush wasn't as one-sided as they all teased her about. "Emma's in the back … I can call her out if you want to talk to her?"

Regina's skin darkened a little and she shook her head quickly as if she'd been discovered doing something wrong. "N-no, that's fine." Then she straightened her spine. "Just my coffee, please, and before lunch if at all possible."

"Yes, ma'am," Ruby said with a small chuckle. _Oh yeah, it's not just Emma. _She handed over the coffee with a smirk. "Have a nice day."

Regina Mills nodded and left without a word, but not without another glance at the kitchen door.

The door Emma burst through a moment later, almost running into Ruby. "Hey," she said in reflex.

"Hey," came Ruby's measured reply.

Something in Ruby's grin made Emma suspicious. "Did something happen?"

Ruby thought about leaving Emma in the dark but then decided that would be too cruel. "Your crush was just here and picked up her coffee."

"She was?" Emma's face fell and her whole body deflated. She didn't even realize that she wasn't denying the major crush she had on the brunette customer. "I missed her? Today of all days?"

Ruby wasn't sure why missing Regina would cause _that_ much of a reaction — even if Emma had a crush — but she found herself continuing quickly. "You really _just_ missed her, Emma … as in she walked out ten seconds ago. I mean … if you needed to talk to her or something, I could cover you for a few minutes …"

Emma's eyes lit up. "Now or never," she told herself under her breath. "Thanks, Rubes," she added a little louder before tearing off her apron and sprinting out the door. She stopped there and looked up and down the busy street. The door behind her opened. "She turned left, Emma," Ruby yelled. "And she was wearing her black suit. The one with the pin-striped vest."

Emma nodded her thanks and took off but didn't get far before she heard her name called from the side alley next to the adjacent building. She turned around and saw Regina leaning back against the brick wall. "Regina," Emma breathed. "I mean Ms. Mills. You're … here."

Regina rolled her eyes a little at Emma's Captain Obvious imitation. "That I am. I've been trying to enjoy my coffee … but it just doesn't taste the same this morning."

"I'm sorry," Emma breathed, immediately contrite. The one morning she wasn't around to make Regina's coffee and Ruby fucked it up. "You were late."

"I'm sorry," Regina mumbled, then instantly looked like she had no idea why she had apologized.

"Not as sorry as I was," Emma whispered.

"Oh? Was there something you wanted?"

_Was that a hopeful smile or a grimace?_ Emma figured she'd know once she pushed forward. "I was hoping … I thought maybe … I mean you probably eat and I eat and maybe … but then again you're you … and I'm me … and why would you even consider it … I just make your coffee—"

"Shut up, Emma," Regina Mills interrupted the nervous ramblings.

Emma promptly snapped her mouth shut, blushing even more fiercely than before. "Sorry, I didn't mean to … Sorry, I'll go."

"No!" Regina took one look at the coffee in her hand, then tossed it in a perfect no-look throw into the trash can a few feet away. Emma watched her as she apparently grappled for words but remained still.

"Seems we both suck at communication," Emma pointed out, finding her voice again.

"I'll have you know that I am a perfectly good communicator," Regina groused, offended. "You just … argh." With that she wrapped both fists in the front of Emma's nice shirt and pulled her into a kiss.

Emma yelped and needed a second to get over the surprise but once she did she kissed back with abandon, slowly pushing Regina back against the wall and leaning her body against her. This was everything she wanted, everything she dreamed of, and had been hoping for since the first day Regina Mills had shown up in their coffee shop.

When Regina finally pulled back from the kiss — lipstick smudged, eyes half-lidded, cheeks a little darkened — Emma cupped the side of her face. "Your communication skills are awesome," she rasped. "At least the non-verbal kind."

"So are yours," Regina conceded. "Maybe we could try and progress to the verbal kind now?"

Emma nodded, a sudden calm coming over her now while her insides were still fluttering from the kiss. "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

Regina smiled. "See how easy it is?"

"Only because you sort of spoke first." When Regina didn't say anything, Emma got nervous again. "So … dinner?"

"Dinner," Regina confirmed. "Tonight. Pick me up at this address at 7." She handed Emma a business card with all her professional details and a phone number and different address scribbled on the back.

"You already had this prepared?" Emma asked.

"I got tired of waiting for you to work up the courage to ask me out," Regina explained with a slightly darkening blush. "Consider my disappointment when you weren't there."

"Oh." Emma grinned, still staring at the business card. "Great minds think alike, huh?"

"If you say so, dear."

"Seven tonight?"

"Don't be late."

"Unlike you?"

"Unlike me."

Emma saluted and turned to go back to work. After one step, she turned back and pulled Regina into another kiss that made her toes curl with the happy anticipation of things to come. Then she practically skipped away, rounding the corner after a second.

Regina sagged against the wall, a wide smile on her face.

**The End**


	11. Slice-of-Life: Rain

**AU Challenge / Challenge on Infinite Earths**

**Day 11: Slice-of-Life**

**Summary: A torrential downpour results in a chance meeting. Meet-cute.**

**Disclaimer: Not my characters.**

* * *

Emma Swan ran down the street, trying not to lose sight of her mark in the sudden almost-apocalyptic weather. "Really," she panted under her breath as her long legs ate up the pavement while trying to shield her eyes from the rain. "You just had to be a runner, jerk."

Her mark vanished around a corner and then apparently into thin air because he was completely gone by the time Emma rounded the corner after him. She found herself in an alley off the busy Manhattan street, and her mark was just … gone. Emma walked into the alley — looking around all the time, not in the mood for an ambush — until she got to the dead end. "Where the hell did you go?"

She checked the huge dumpsters but they were filled with nothing but very soggy garbage, then looked up and checked the two fire escapes she could make out against the dark brick walls among the sheets of rain.

Nothing.

Dejectedly — and soaked through to the bone — Emma made her way back to the busy street to head back to where she came from. The crowds had thinned out in the last few minutes with most people intelligent enough to get out of the torrential rains. Emma pushed her wet hair out of her face and trudged on, avoiding puddles as much as possible.

At the next corner she stopped at the curb and waited for traffic to lighten up enough for her to cross over and take a short-cut through the park back to her office. The temperatures had dropped and she was beginning to feel the chill through her red leather jacket which just wasn't made for this kind of weather. As she looked to the right, a black town car neared rapidly from the left just as a cab veered out from its lane across the street. The town car swerved towards Emma and straight through a huge puddle, hitting Emma with a wall of water, drenching her even more than she already was.

Emma swore loudly, and although the sound didn't travel in the rain and wind, the town car screeched to a stop about 30 feet away from where she was raging against the driver. The back door opened, beckoning Emma to go and give the driver or passenger a piece of her mind. She stalked over, steam building up inside her, waiting to be let out.

She leaned forward to look into the back of the car to rip the owner to shreds when her eyes caught sight of the passenger and her brain emptied in a fizz. There, sitting among piles of important-looking sheets of paper, was the most breathtakingly beautiful women Emma Swan had ever seen, giving her an apologetic smile and a sincere look from brown eyes.

"Jesus," Emma breathed, although she didn't know if it was for the driving or the woman being driven around.

"I am so sorry," the gorgeous woman spoke, and Emma knew she was absolutely done for. That voice was deadly enough to make her knees buckle. "My driver had to avoid another car, and I apologize if you were inconvenienced by that."

"Inconvenienced?" Emma asked, eyebrow raised in challenge. "Drenched, you mean?"

The woman in the car smirked a little. "So I see." She picked up some of the papers and stuffed them in a business case. "Can I make up for getting you wet by giving you a ride to your destination?" When Emma hesitated a fraction of a second too long, she added, "Please? It's not like you can get the seats any wetter than the weather and our little chat have already managed."

Emma looked down to where the woman pointed and saw the small puddles forming on the expensive leather. With a sigh, she nodded and slid into the car. "Thank you," she murmured, trying not to get anything but the spot she was sitting in wet. She gave the driver her address, then turned back to the beautiful brunette when he raised the divider and eased back onto traffic. "My name's Emma. Emma Swan."

"Regina Mills," came the instant reply. "Pleasure to meet you." Her eyes went to Emma's thoroughly wet t-shirt and she found it hard to tear her eyes away. "I think it might definitely be more my pleasure than yours," she murmured, only to add a louder, "Again, I apologize."

"Oh my God," Emma blurted, ignoring the apology and the lingering look at her chest area. "Regina Mills? You look different when you're not smiling down from a huge billboard."

Surprisingly enough, Regina looked slightly uncomfortable. "Yes, well … if you knew how many hours of styling and hair and make-up, not to mention post-editing goes into those pictures you wouldn't be surprised. I hardly recognize myself …"

Emma snorted, causing Regina to look at her. "What I meant to say was that you're even _more_ gorgeous in person, Ms. Mills." She bit her lip. "Are you sure you have the time to give me this ride?"

"Call me Regina, please. And it's perfectly fine." Regina paused, her hand picking up an invisible piece of lint from her designer jeans. "To be honest, I'm escaping from a terrible lunch date and I have some time to spare before I have to be at work."

Calling the Met a _workplace_ was probably the height of understatement, but before Emma could call her on it, Regina continued. "I'm surprised you even know who I am," she said.

"Why?" Emma asked, slightly offended. "Because I don't look like someone who could appreciate the fine arts? I might not have a season ticket to the Met but—"

Regina rolled her eyes. "No, dear," she interrupted quietly. "Because not many people _do_ out of context. I'm an opera singer, not some rock star or movie actor. We do tend to attract smaller crowds."

"Okay, that's a fair point," Emma conceded. "And if you remember, I only recognized you _after_ you told me who you were, so it doesn't quite count."

"Don't worry, dear. I won't hold that against you."

"I wouldn't mind if you held _yourself_ against me," Emma blurted under her breath, beating herself up over it the very next second.

Her hope that Regina hadn't heard her comment was shattered when she saw her face, spiked eyebrow and all.

"You're rather direct, aren't you?" Regina asked, and to Emma's surprise she didn't sound entirely put off.

"I often suffer from foot-in-mouth disease," Emma admitted. "My brain has trouble catching up to my mouth in time to stop whatever's coming out sometimes."

"That's quite refreshing." Regina gave Emma a small smile. "You remind me of my son."

"You have a son?" Emma couldn't help but gasp. Then she cringed and pointed at her mouth as if to say, "See?"

Regina chuckled. "You didn't know?"

"You said it yourself," Emma defended herself. "You're an opera singer, not a movie star whose private life is spread all over the gossip rags."

"Thank God for that," Regina muttered. "That does make my life a little easier."

There was a lull in conversation as Emma pondered what to say or whether to say anything at all. She stared out the window at the city flying by, at the people fighting the rain. The buildings began to look very familiar and she realized that they were close to her apartment. If she wanted to see Regina again — and not from the cheapest seats at the Met — then she had to come up with something soon.

_Make that now_, she thought when the car rolled to a stop in front of her building. "This is me, I guess," she muttered sadly.

"You guess?" Amusement shone from Regina's dark eyes. "Did the weather damage more than your clothes?" She stopped when she realized something. "I'm going to take care of the dry-cleaning bill, of course."

Emma shook her head. "I have a washing machine, that'll do," she declined. "Don't worry about it."

"But …"

"But?" Emma prayed that she hadn't imagined the look of disappointment on Regina's face.

"But … but then at least take this." Regina dug around in a small satchel by her side and took out an envelope, which she handed to Emma. "Please."

Emma opened the envelope and gasped in surprise when two front-row tickets to the premiere of the new Met production fell out. "I can't … What?"

"Please take them," Regina implored her. "If you don't want them—"

"No!" Emma barked quickly. "Of course I want them! But I bet these are worth more than my clothes …"

"Not to me," Regina replied simply. "To me, they're about having someone to look at and focus on when I sing. Someone I'd … well …"

Emma smiled at the adorably flustered look on Regina's face. "Are you trying to tell me you would like to see me again?"

Regina's eyes widened as they met Emma's but her mouth curled into a shy smile. "Sorry, I'm so very bad at this, and I _never_ do this … but yes."

Emma dug around in the inside pocket of her leather jacket and fished out a slightly crumpled and wet business card. "Here's my number," she said. "And this is my private cell." She scribbled a number on the back and handed Regina the card, hoping to hell that the digits would remain legible until Regina used them, if she ever did.

"Thank you," Regina whispered.

The divider went down and Regina's driver turned his head. "Ms. Mills," he began apologetically. "We have to go if you want to make it on time."

"Thank you, Marco." Regina nodded and waited until the divider was up again. "I have to go," she said softly. "Will you come?"

Emma returned the smile she could see on Regina's face. "Will you call me?"

"Maybe." The smile turned coy.

On impulse, Emma leaned in and pressed her lips to Regina's cheek in a brief kiss. "Thank you for the ride."

Regina's fingers touched her cheek. "What was that?"

Emma opened the door and stepped out into the rain. She wrapped her jacket closer around herself to ward off the chill against her wet clothes and leaned back inside the car. "That … was a thank you ... and a preview."

She was halfway up to her apartment when her cell phone alerted her to a new message. _If that was a preview, I'm looking forward to the main event. RM._

**The End**


	12. Deserted Island: A Pile Of Sand And Tree

**AU Challenge / Challenge on Infinite Earths**

**Day 12: Deserted Island**

**Summary: On their way back from Neverland, Emma and Regina are stranded on a deserted island. Alone.**

**Disclaimer: Not my characters. **

**A/N: Pretty much PWP, with a smidgen of plot (blink and you miss it).**

* * *

Regina wakes up to somebody roughly shaking her body. She groans at the taste of something grainy and foreign in her mouth before she slowly opens her eyes. She's lying face down on the ground, her lips kissing sand of some sort, and everything hurts. She slowly raises her head and spits out the dirt in her mouth, then turns to see who's there with her.

"Slowly," comes a voice — scratchy, yet familiar — just as she winces in pain. A hand is there to steady her until she is sitting relatively upright in the sand and is able to look around. The first thing she sees is Emma Swan's face, and her immediate thought is worry about how banged up she looks. Her hair is a tangled mess, her face bloody and dirty, and she can see some bruises all over her upper body, which is when she realizes that she can see more of Emma's body than was normal.

Regina has to force herself to tear her eyes from the sight of Emma's breasts through the wet fabric of her torn and dirty tank top. The last thing she needs right now is to get distracted by her attraction to the Savior. What she _needs_ to do is figure out what the hell happened to them.

"Wha—" she stops to clear her throat, tries again. "What happened?" It still comes out as a mere croak. She wonders how long she's been out.

"I was hoping you could tell me," Emma replies, voice equally hoarse. Maybe they screamed a lot.

Regina shakes her head, which causes the pain to flare up. "The last thing I remember is screaming at your mother about something stupid she said. Which doesn't really clarify anything as her idiocy is a recurring phenomenon. But we were on the ship … on the way back from Neverland. There was a freak storm, I think … just before we jumped the portal … then nothing."

Emma nods, biting her lip. "Yeah, that's about it. I remember thunder and lightning and Hook yelling something. Then everything is just black."

"What about … Henry? The others? Are they here as well?" She looks around in a sudden panic at the thought of her son, taking in her surroundings for the first time. "What the hell is this place anyway?"

Emma looks shocked at hearing Regina swear. "I have no idea," she says after a moment, and Regina takes it as an answer to all her questions for now. "I woke up a few minutes ago over there," she points towards some palm trees about a hundred feet down the beach. "And then I saw you and you weren't moving … and for a second there I thought you were dead." Her voice cracks a little at the last word.

Regina can't read the face Emma makes and assumes it doesn't mean anything good. "I'm sorry to disappoint."

Emma's jaw drops as she stares at Regina for a few seconds. "You're an idiot," she finally manages, before standing and stomping away through the sand.

Regina slowly gets to her feet, wondering what she's done now. As soon as she's on her feet, she realizes something is off. She feels empty somehow, and then her brain catches up to the feeling: she can't feel her magic. "Great," she mutters, even as she still tries to heal her injuries. Unsurprisingly, nothing happens. With a sigh, she follows Emma, determined to see if Henry is here with them, hopefully safe and sound.

Or better yet, safe in Storybrooke.

o—o—o

The next hours are uncomfortable. They manage a mostly silent walk around the whole island, which isn't all that big, but all they find are a few planks of wood which could have come from any ship in the past few decades, and definitely look too old and weathered to be from a recent shipwreck. They tell each other that the Jolly Roger is fine, that Henry is fine, that they were the only ones who were thrown overboard by the storm. "If the two of us ended up here," Emma says reasonably, "everybody else would have too."

Regina decides not to argue probabilities and worst-case scenarios, and chooses instead to believe in Emma's words. It's not as hard as she thought it would be.

Turns out, it's not even half as hard as making a fire without magic.

Thus, the first night on the island is very uncomfortable because the temperatures drop rapidly as soon as the suns sets, and they're both too stubborn and proud to seek out the other's warmth. Also, Regina muses as she huddles in a corner of the lean-to they managed to cobble together, she's not so sure she could take being that close to a half-naked Emma and not do something about it.

She catches a longing look Emma shoots her, and wonders about it for a few minutes, the speculation taking her mind off the feeling of being so damn cold. In the end she decides it's her blazer Emma eyes enviously, not her.

o—o—o

They both wake up cranky and hungry and cold the next morning, and snarling at each other is the familiar thing to do, no matter how much Regina actually wants to go and make Emma feel better. It would be for nothing, she knows, having seen Emma with Hook on Neverland. There's nothing she can do about her feelings for Emma, but she also can't just turn them off. She wishes she could just conjure up a fleece blanket for her for the cold nights, could just snap a fire into existence or present Emma with coffee and bear claws for breakfast.

It takes her a few minutes to realize that the thought of healing her own injuries didn't even cross her mind. It is that realization that tells her that her attraction to Emma might go deeper than she thought, and that a prolonged stay on this island was going to be torture.

o—o—o

Regina finds out that she's surprisingly good at spearing fish in the shallow waters just off the island with the spear Emma makes for her. Her body is slowly feeling better but it's not up to climbing palm trees and foraging in the woods for anything edible. Emma, however, is good at it, and even seems to enjoy it judging by the amount of time she spends away from their camp looking for food.

Regina is not too unhappy about her absence as it allows her time to get her feelings under control.

Emma somehow manages to make a fire that night, so they can actually cook the fish Regina caught. And when the fire dies in the middle of the night, they forget about pride and stubbornness and seek warmth by huddling close together.

o—o—o

Regina wakes up that second morning wrapped in Emma's arms, her face pressed against Emma neck, and her hand cupping one of her breasts. Their legs are tangled together, Emma's hand has a sure grip on her ass, and Regina can feel herself already wet from whatever dream she may have had but can't remember. Emma moves in her sleep, pressing her thigh against Regina's sex in the process, and Regina can feel herself getting wetter.

Her groan wakes up Emma, who looks startled by their closeness and practically bolts from the mat they made from banana leaves. She mutters something about freshening up and runs.

o—o—o

This becomes a pattern over the next few days. They go to sleep next to each other with the fire still burning and wake up tangled in each other, hands in inappropriate places, their bodies moving together in the night. After a week of this Regina's sexual frustration is at the point where she can't take it any longer.

As soon as Emma runs off to gather more food — something she's doing more and more often as the days go on — Regina finds a quiet, secluded spot to relieve the pressure. She barely has to touch herself the first time before she comes with a small groan. The second time, immediately afterwards, is more languid, more about pleasure than tension, and when she comes, it is with Emma's face on her mind and her name a sigh on red lips.

o—o—o

After a week, two things become very clear to Regina. One, that the Jolly Roger — and with it Henry and the two idiots — must have gone through the portal back to Storybrooke, which means she and Emma are stuck on this island for the foreseeable future. It took weeks for magic beans to grow, and that was if they could _find_ some to grow, and it would take Gold at least that long to come up with an alternative solution.

And two, that Emma's trips into the forest become more frequent and take longer every day.

Both realizations cause a twinge of sadness in her chest that doesn't go away for hours, and she doesn't leave their camp all day except to fish for their dinner.

o—o—o

On the ninth day of their forced cohabitation on this Godforsaken pile of sand and trees in the middle of a vast sea, Regina is bored out of her skull and decides to go for a swim on the other side of the island where she knows is a lovely lagoon that's not also her fishing spot. It wouldn't feel right to swim with her dinner, she tells herself as she trudges through the dense vegetation.

She's halfway across the island when she hears a noise, a mix between a groan and a whimper. Her first thought is to run toward the sound because Emma might be in danger, but then the nuances of the sound settle in her brain, and she swallows hard. Of course, she muses, Emma must miss the pirate or the thief or, God forbid, both, and a little stress relief was always a good thing.

She wants to leave the area as quickly as she can, wants to be as far as humanly possible from the painful proof that Emma is pining for somebody else, that Emma is taking care of something that Regina would love to do for her.

But sound has an odd way of traveling in this coastal forest, and instead of sneaking away, Regina suddenly finds herself much closer to Emma, although she still can't see her. Close enough to hear Emma much more clearly, and if Regina had to judge from the sounds Emma is making, she'd say that the other woman is close to her climax. Regina swallows again, and she's sure her face is an alarming shade of red, as she peeks around a large tree trunk, feet rooted to the spot, just as Emma lets out a drawn-out groan that makes Regina's insides coil tightly.

She can't tear her eyes away from Emma in the throes of passion, fingers furiously working between her thighs, up and down and sideways, and her face a mix of what looks like pleasure and frustration, the same mix of emotions Regina feels every time she takes care of the ache between her legs. And then Emma comes, her back arching off the fallen tree she's resting on, and Regina's heart stutters, then races, then stops, when Emma lets out more than a groan. "Yes … God … Regina … yes … hnnnnnnng …"

Regina is instantly aware of her almost painful arousal, but more than that the incredible lightness in her heart. She's not alone in her attraction, her feelings, and before she can even finish that thought and what it means for them, her feet are carrying her toward Emma.

Emma stares at her in shock, flushes in total embarrassment, jumps up to gather her clothes, but Regina is by her side before she can get far. And then Regina's hands are buried in Emma's hair and their lips are pressed together.

Emma doesn't react for a fraction of a second and Regina assumes it's from the shock, not from lack of wanting, and she's proven right when Emma starts kissing her back with everything she has. Regina hardly notices when her clothes vanish from her body as if by magic, proving that the sometimes klutzy Savior can be quite dexterous if properly motivated, giving Regina high hopes for what she assumes is going to happen.

"You're so beautiful," Emma mutters against Regina's skin once they part, softly nosing her cheek, her nose, her temple, her hair.

"Emma." Regina can't hold back the sigh as she leans back in to capture Emma's lips once more. This time, Emma returns the kiss without any hesitation, her hand roaming over Regina's newly bared skin until Regina feels like there are trails of lightning racing over her body. Regina wants more, _needs_ more, so she gently pushes Emma back against the fallen tree until she's sitting down again — Regina makes sure to place her on Emma's clothes, which are still lying on the tree trunk — and Regina can step between her thighs. She leans over Emma, pressing her back into her former position with her kiss, her body, as she brings her thigh against Emma's sex, which is glistening and still so wet from her previous orgasm.

Emma wraps one leg around Regina's hips and tugs her closer, causing them both to groan and buck helplessly.

Regina wants to keep kissing Emma, thinks she could keep doing that for hours and days and months actually, but there's so much else to discover, so she trails her lips down Emma's neck, her breasts, her stomach. She can smell Emma's arousal this close to the source, and it makes her head spin with desire.

"God, Regina," Emma moans as Regina's lips travel closer and closer to where Emma needs her to be.

"Good?" Regina can't help but murmur against Emma's bellybutton.

"Wonder…ful." Emma's voice cracks as Regina nips at the taut skin of her belly, then soothes the spot with her tongue. Emma's hands move to Regina's hair, clenching and unclenching almost painfully, exerting gentle pressure to move Regina's head further down. "Please touch me, Regina," she breathes, voice needy.

"I am touching you," Regina counters, always contrary, but the fingers of her right hand run up the leg that's curled around her hip, her nails leaving red trails in their wake. Emma keens and bucks her hips. Regina stills her hands and her mouth. "Talk to me, Emma," she whispers against skin, her eyes finding Emma's. "What do you want?"

"I want you to touch me," Emma repeats, whines really.

"Where?"

In a swift move, Emma grabs Regina's hand and presses it against her wetness. "There."

Regina smirks, albeit a bit breathlessly, and presses her fingers slowly between Emma's folds, tracing them lightly, then firmly, testing Emma's responses. "Is that really all you want?" Regina asks when it looks as if Emma is getting closer to the edge. "Are you sure there's nothing else I can do for you, Ms. Swan?"

Emma's hips buck harder at the question and the name, and Regina can hear her swallow even over the sound of the island all around them. "Mouth," she rasps, "I want your mouth on me."

Regina rewards her with a searing kiss that Emma returns vigorously. They kiss for long moments, getting lost in each other, before Regina begins her long, slow trail down the gorgeous body to where Emma has asked her to be.

Her tongue glides between Emma's folds, retracing her fingers' steps, learning the contours again, all senses completely attuned to Emma and her reactions, the groans and breathy little moans that let her know what works well, and what works even better. She delves into Emma's entrance, pushes in as far as she can, enjoying the taste and feel, wondering if it would be wrong to do this all day, every day.

The hands in her hair clench rhythmically now, letting her know this is as good for Emma as it is for her. Regina draws back a little, moves up, and lightly runs her tongue over Emma's clit before clamping her lips around the swollen hub of nerves and tonguing it with quick strokes. Emma lets out a long wail which might have been a derivation of Regina's name, so she intensifies her ministrations.

"Inside," Emma begs hoarsely. "I need you inside … fingers … please …"

Regina for once does as she is asked and enters Emma with one finger, then two when she realizes how wet Emma is for her. "You're so wonderfully receptive," she murmurs, "so wet, so open."

"Already came … twice … before …" Emma manages between moans. Her body is covered in a sheen of sweat, and Regina thinks she's never seen a more beautiful sight. "Thinking of you."

"Of me?" Regina heard it, but still she has to ask.

"Al…ways," Emma admits, interrupted by a breathy moan as Regina hits a spot that makes her arousal jump another notch.

Regina returns her full attention to Emma's clit while pushing her fingers in and out, corkscrewing them a little every time, relishing in the feeling of Emma's muscles clamping down on them. She knows Emma is close, can feel it, can recognize the pitch of her moans, so she pulls the clit between her lips and sucks, pushing her fingers in as hard and fast as she can at the same time.

Emma comes with a yell that causes a few birds to squawk in protest and fly off. Regina smiles happily against Emma as she slows her lips, her fingers, her tongue, guiding Emma through her orgasm.

"God, Regina," Emma rasps after long moments, when her breathing has calmed a little. "Why haven't we been doing this for years?"

Regina rests her chin against Emma's pubic bone and still manages to look up at her with a sardonic smirk. "I could start listing the reasons but I don't think we have enough time for them all."

Emma pulls Regina up and into a kiss that starts out far more loving than passionate, a promise for the future, but it quickly turns demanding and fiery. Emma pushes up from her position, determined to have her chance to make Regina scream and moan for her, but only manages to land them both on the sandy forest ground with a dull thud. Emma has the presence of mind to look for Regina's discarded clothes and moves them both there before focusing on Regina and her pleasure in earnest.

o—o—o

The month until they're rescued flies by after that, and they agree that if they both weren't missing their son so damn much, it would have been the perfect vacation, forced or not.

**The End**


	13. CopsDetectives: Lost Weekend

**AU Challenge / Challenge on Infinite Earths**

**Day 13: Cops/Detectives**

**Summary: Sheriff Emma Swan is not happy when the FBI shows up to take the lead on her case. But it looks like Agent Mills is not exactly leaping for joy about it either.**

**Disclaimer: Not my characters.**

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**Lost Weekend**

"Absolutely not!"

Sheriff Emma Swan was having none of it, and Agent Regina Mills wasn't even sure she could blame her given how her lead agent was trying to bludgeon the sheriff into acceptance of an inevitable fact. Tact was not his strong suit but then again, neither was it hers, which was why he had insisted on doing the talking during this initial meeting.

"Sheriff Swan," the man in the dark suit tried again, more conciliatory this time. "I absolutely understand your concern. Nobody likes strangers poking around in their town but ..."

"But?"

"But," he huffed, managing to look apologetic and constipated at the same time, "the fact is that you don't really have a choice. This _is_ now a federal case, and Special Agent Mills _will_ be the lead investigator. She's one of our very best and you're lucky to have her here." That sheriff from the boonies had no idea _how_ lucky she was to get his best agent, given that he had to practically force Regina to come to this little town in the middle of nowhere. He still had no idea why she was so adamant about not coming here but he hadn't given her a choice, and in the end she had complied. It had cost him a two-week vacation after this case for her but since she had accrued about three months worth' of personal days and vacation days, he couldn't really refuse her. Too bad she hadn't wanted to spend those two weeks with him …

Emma Swan's face went to the woman standing in front of her case board, seemingly completely uninterested in their conversation. She was dressed in what Emma considered typical FBI style — dark suit, white shirt, heeled boots — and she wore it exceedingly well. "_Fine_, Agent Locksley," she growled finally, biting out his name. "But it's my town, my case, and I take the lead."

At that, Agent Mills turned around and gave Emma a small smirk that had Emma's heart stutter in her chest. "If you say so, Sheriff," the agent drawled in a low voice, and Emma was sure she knew exactly how that voice affected people. That, and her breathtaking beauty, Emma mused. She felt a flutter in her belly as she looked at the other woman, her beauty leaving Emma almost breathless. _Well, shit. _This was so not the right time to get horny over an arrogant fed.

Agent Locksley looked like he wanted to say something else but Agent Mills stopped him with a curt, "Thank you, Locks," which Emma translated in her head as _Dismissed_. He looked back and forth between Emma and his agent as if unsure if he could trust them not to kill each other, but then nodded once, and left, closing the door behind him and leaving Sheriff Swan and Agent Mills alone in the office.

"And here I thought he was your boss," Emma commented the exchange with a small smirk, trying to build some rapport with the woman who would be by her side for who knew how long during this case.

Agent Mills gave her a strange look over her shoulder. "He is the senior agent," she replied tersely. "_He_ thinks he's my boss."

Emma snorted as she came to stand next to Agent Mills at the case board she had put together. "So, you're a profiler, eh?"

"Hmm," Regina replied, not taking her eyes off the board in front of her. Emma studied her face for a moment, trying to figure out if the look on her face really was annoyance, and if she had earned that by refusing to cooperate at first. _I'd have thought the feds are used to that._

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Regina suggested evenly.

Emma blinked, not sure if she was imagining the vaguely amused smirk on the agent's gorgeous face. Something very faintly niggled at the back of her mind but she couldn't quite grasp it. She was wondering if she had met the agent before but she pushed the thought away because she really couldn't imagine ever forgetting a face like that. Unless … but no, that would be too much of a coincidence.

Emma decided to just engage the agent in conversation to maybe shake loose what was bothering her. "What does it take to be a good profiler?"

Regina finally took her eyes off the board and traced them over Emma from top to bottom and back. "Good observational skills, training, good recollection of facts and faces helps …" There was a strange emphasis on the last part, which didn't help with Emma's confusion.

"So what do your great observational skills tell you about me?" Her voice didn't sound as casual and steady as she wanted it to, Emma was sure. Damn her lack of a good poker face.

Regina looked around the sheriff's office, taking in all the small details, before her eyes roamed over Emma once more. "You're not very organized but as long as the chaos is of your own making, it doesn't matter to you or those around you because you always know instinctively where things are when you need them. You're a single mother and I'd say you had your son when you were a teenager or barely in your twenties."

Emma frowned as she looked around her office to see where the profiler could have gotten the information from. Yes, her desk was messy and there was a photo of Henry as a toddler on it so that shouldn't reveal that much, should it?

"You're also a skeptic," Regina continued, pointing at the case board and the many question marks behind connections the FBI had relayed before arriving. "It's a good skill for a sheriff." She paused. "Probably an atheist as well. Or agnostic."

"Yeah, whatever."

Regina raised an eyebrow and smirked at the small scowl on Emma's face. "And lastly, you're attracted to me. _Very_ attracted, I'd say."

Emma blushed but scoffed, going immediately on the defensive. "Cocky much, lady?"

"Not at all, Sheriff Swan," Regina calmly retorted. "I'm simply drawing conclusions from your behavior and your physical responses to my presence."

"You know nothing Agent Mills," Emma bit out. "Let's get to work."

Regina stared at her, a little shocked maybe, before she shook her head with a sad smile. "You really _don't_ remember, do you, Emma?"

_And there it was,_ Emma thought. Did she really know this woman? "I-I'm …"

There was something sad in the dark eyes that were getting closer and closer, and Emma wondered what had happened between them to cause that. Regina sighed and looked down, and she seemed to be debating with herself. "This is probably a huge mistake on my part," she mumbled under her breath but since she was only a foot or so away, Emma heard her clearly. "I should let sleeping dogs lie … "

When Regina looked up again, her yes were shining brightly, however, and Emma couldn't look away. "Let me remind you," Regina whispered, and a fraction of a second later, her lips were pressed against Emma's in the softest kiss the sheriff had ever experienced.

When the kiss ended, Emma whined at the loss. She went after the retreating mouth, chasing it for another kiss but Regina stepped out of reach. "Why … what …?" Emma muttered, disproportionally disappointed, although she didn't even know why.

"Do you remember now?" Agent Mills asked.

Ashamed, Emma shook her head.

"Pity." Emma could see the walls going up in those eyes before the agent turned around and moved further away. "I apologize if I made you uncomfortable."

"You didn't," Emma blurted. "Not even close. It was … it was nice."

Agent Mills snorted. "Not quite as enthusiastic as what you said last time," she rasped. "But since that was before you disappeared without a word, it might have been a lie."

"No, no, I'm pretty damn sure it wasn't." Emma took three quick steps and came to a halt right behind the other woman. She put one hand on the shoulder in front of her and gently turned the agent around. "And if you tell me when and where we met, I might have an explanation for you."

Regina searched Emma's face and seemed satisfied with what she saw there. "We met at a criminology conference in Boston," she explained. "Four years ago."

Emma exhaled slowly. Yes, that would explain things. "Was the conference in April?" she asked, just to make sure.

"Yes," Agent Mills confirmed. "If I remember correctly," — and she remembered the weekend _quite_ well — "it was the first weekend of April."

Emma's shoulders sagged in both relief and sadness. Her legs wobbled a little at the revelation and she took a few steps back to lean against her desk, pulling the agent along by the hand without a second thought. "I can explain it," she whispered around a tremulous smile.

"All right," Regina replied. "I'm listening."

Neither commented on the fact that their hands remained linked.

"Here's the thing," Emma began hesitantly before rushing on, "I lost three months of my life … basically the first part of 2011."

"Okay," Regina encouraged her when Emma didn't continue straight away. "How? Did you have an accident?" Her thumb began a slow caress of Emma's knuckles.

Emma nodded. "I was told I hit a patch of black ice just outside of Storybrooke and plowed into a tree," she explained. "I hit my head and was in a coma for about four weeks … and I lost some time that I never got back." She paused. "My kid said I was on the way back from Boston! That must have been when we met."

"Met, hmm," Regina chuckled.

"What's that supposed t— … Oh." Emma shook her head while a blush crept up her neck and cheeks. "Considering how you tried to remind me of our meeting, I'm guessing we more than just met, huh? God, now I'm even more sorry I forgot."

Regina squeezed Emma's fingers with an enigmatic smile on her face. Now that she knew why Emma didn't remember her — and she believed her unquestioningly — she was much more relaxed and less rigid. "You could say that."

"Tell me about it?"

"We don't have time for that now," Regina reminded softly. "How about I tell you all about it once we get those two women back?"

"Can't you give me the short version now?" Emma pouted. "And then the long, very detailed version over dinner?"

"I'm not sure you really want the short version," Regina rasped. "I'm not sure you could handle the rest of my stay here with just a _hint_ of what happened."

"There you go being cocky again," Emma teased. "I'm a big girl, I can deal."

"Well, big girl," Regina teased right back, her eyes roaming the expanse of Emma's body once again, and this time she allowed her face to express her pleasure at what she was seeing. "We met at the conference registration desk, and you asked me to have dinner with you before I even had my badge. For some reason I said yes." She smiled softly.

"After dinner, you asked me into your room for a nightcap." Regina smirked at the look of pride and accomplishment on Emma's face, even though she couldn't remember anything. "We didn't leave the room for the next three days until you had to leave to go home. We exchanged numbers," she added with a shrug, "but … you never called. I tried to call you but of course all my calls went unanswered."

"My phone got totaled in the crash …" Emma stated. "I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault, Emma."

"I know but still …" Emma waggled her eyebrows. "The whole weekend in bed? Was it as good as I imagine it was?"

"I seem to remember that your imagination is quite … something." Regina leaned in close. "But no matter what you're imagining right now, it was much, much better," she whispered, her breath caressing the shell of Emma's ear. "Too bad you can't remember the best sex of your life."

Emma's breath caught in her throat. "Are you always this cocky or do I bring that out in you?" she rasped.

"Those were your words, not mine."

"You're evil."

The dirty chuckle she got in reply made Emma's lower abdomen clench in acute arousal. Imagining her lost weekend wasn't helping with that either.

Regina took a step back but before she could get far, Emma pulled her back against her body by the hand, tangling her free hand in Regina's hair. "Fair's fair," she murmured before covering Regina's lips in a searing kiss that had the butterflies in her stomach do somersaults. Regina kissed back with equal passion, her body drawn to Emma just like it had been so long ago.

The kiss lasted a long time and not long enough before they both pulled back, gently, going back in for pecks and short, gentle kisses before they managed to part for real.

"You're calling that fair?" Regina's voice was husky.

"No, I'm calling it a promise," Emma replied softly and a little breathlessly. She straightened and walked over to the case board with purpose in her steps, pulling Regina along. She had never been more motivated to solve a crime quickly. "Let's do this. The sooner we find the women, the sooner we can reenact our first time."

"And the twelve or fifteen next times," Regina added under her breath, suddenly very happy about her two weeks of vacation time after the case was over. She had a feeling they might come in handy. Aloud she added, "Right, okay, here's what we know about the unsub …"

**The End**


	14. Allegiance Swap: Finding Regina

**AU Challenge / Challenge on Infinite Earths**

**Day 14: Allegiance Swap**

**Summary: Princess Emma heads out to save Regina, the black unicorn she met in the forest, and finds something entirely unexpected. Sequel to Black Unicorn (Chapter 6).  
**

**Disclaimer: Not my characters. A/N: I know I said these stories would all be separate, but this idea for a sequel to Black Unicorn just showed up in my head. I thought most of you probably wouldn't mind.**

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**Finding Regina (sequel to Black Unicorn)**

Princess Emma carefully climbed down the vines outside her bedroom's balcony, practice allowing her the perfect combination of steady steps, sure grips, and speed. Her parents had put her in rooms higher and higher up the south tower of the castle but still Emma had found a way down, although she had become much better had hiding her outings over the years.

Tonight secrecy and speed were of the essence if she were to find the black unicorn before her mother's hunters found it first. She had bought herself and the unicorn — _Regina_, she reminded herself — some time by sending them in the opposite direction but the hunters would figure it out soon enough, especially with Granny Lucas leading them. Her nose was still too good to be fooled for too long, even if it wasn't quite in Red's league. Luckily, Red had been sent off to find a black horse somewhere, so Queen Snow and King David could continue to lie to their daughter in the most blatant way possible. _What else have my parents done in the name of good?_

Emma shook off the dark thoughts about her parents as she slowly made her way towards the stables and Galanthus, her trusty white steed. She got four pieces of burlap and wrapped them around the horse's hooves to dampen any sounds, then carefully led him out and into the forest behind the stables. She walked by his side for a good twenty minutes until she felt she was far enough away from the castle, then unwrapped Galanthus' hooves, got on and rode as fast as she could in the dense forest.

Emma went north first, just in case she had missed someone following her. The last thing she needed was to lead the hunters straight to their prey, the unic…_woman_ she was trying to protect.

After an hour's ride, sure that she was most definitely alone in the forest, she veered slowly towards the direction where she had last seen the unicorn. She stopped Galanthus close to where she had first seen the black unicorn but of course there was nothing there. Emma got off her horse and led it into the underbrush, intent on finding a place to rest until morning, until it was light enough for her to see tracks and start her search.

Not far from the road, Galanthus suddenly balked and a shiver ran down Emma's spine, but the feeling was gone as quickly as it had come and Emma forgot about it almost immediately. As she led her horse ever deeper into the woods, she gradually became aware of the deathly quiet that suddenly seemed to permeate this part of the forest like a fog. There was no animal scurrying about, no bird singing a nightly serenade. Emma had never seen a forest this quiet, not even in the middle of the night like right now — it was unnatural. She forged on, however, until she came to a small lake in a beautiful clearing, gleaming silver in the moonlight. Emma sighed in contentment at the beauty of the place and decided to stop there for the night.

She had just dragged the saddle off of Galanthus' back and hitched him to a tree when she had the feeling she wasn't alone. She lowered the saddle to the ground slowly and quietly, then looked around the glade. She hoped it was the unicorn but when she finally managed to make out where the rustle of leaves on the ground was coming from and turned that way, her eyes found neither the magical animal she had hoped for nor an outlaw ready to attack.

It was a woman.

Emma absent-mindedly patted Galanthus' neck while she watched as the woman walked up to the shore of the small lake and stood still as a statue, seemingly entranced by her reflection in the water. Her dark hair was gleaming silver in the moonlight, and something inside Emma nudged her forward. She approached the lake carefully, keeping an eye on the mysterious woman, and when she was by the edge of the water, about 20 feet from the woman, she cleared her throat.

What was meant to be a small sound was deafening in the eerily silent clearing. The woman looked up, eyes wide in surprise, and turned to meet the intruder. As soon as her eyes met Emma's, the princess' heart stuttered in her chest, while the woman let out an almost inaudible gasp.

Unable to stop herself, Emma took several large steps that took her right up to the other woman, her eyes never leaving those familiar-looking dark eyes. When she was only inches from her, Emma stopped. "I don't know how … but it's you, isn't it?" she asked softly, her voice barely carrying over the small distance between them. "Regina?"

Surprise flittered across the flawless features. "How did you manage ...? What are you doing here?"

Her voice sounded raspy and hoarse, as if it hadn't been used in way too long, and it seemed to Emma the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. "I've been looking for you," she murmured. "I wanted to … _need_ to warn you. You're in danger."

To Emma's surprise, Regina chuckled at that, a dry, joyless sound. "I'm always in danger, Princess."

"How …?"

Regina rolled her eyes the same way the black unicorn had done. "You _told_ me that your mother was Snow White," she explained. "What are you really doing here? Taking care of your mother's problem for her for good?" She scoffed and spread her arms to the side. "Go ahead," she taunted, "it's not like I can offer much resistance in this form."

Emma took a step back in shock. "I'm not here to kill you," she insisted. "I'm not my mother."

"Again with the bitterness when you talk about dear, dear Snow," Regina mused aloud, sounding slightly amused at the thought. "Whatever did she do to you?"

"Trying to make me into someone I'm not all my life," Emma replied angrily. "Lying to me … Seems she's been hiding a lot from me," she added, pointing at Regina. "I never even knew there was a Queen Regina before today. Well, yesterday," she amended, glancing at the bit of night sky she could see through the trees. "It's not a good feeling when you find out you don't even know your own parents. My mother has always presented herself as infallible and the purest of hearts, and now I realize that she and my father are neither."

"Ah yes, the shepherd," Regina smirked. She noticed the goosebumps on Emma's arms. "The nights are getting chilly this time of year. I have a small cottage if you trust me not to kill you in your sleep. I also may have some hay for your lovely horse."

"Why wouldn't I?" Emma asked. "Just because my parents hate you, doesn't mean I do."

"Oh my dear sweet summer child," Regina said around a chuckle. "You really have no idea who I am, do you?"

o—o—o

The cottage was set back from the lake a little bit, hidden in a cove of thickly-grown trees. It was small — just a large room downstairs and a smaller loft accessible by a ladder — but well cared for.

Once Galanthus was taken care of, Emma entered the cottage and took in her surroundings before facing Regina. "I'm not sure I understand all of this," she said as Regina busied herself at the small fire. "I thought you were turned into a unicorn by Rumpelstiltskin? And yesterday you _were_ a black unicorn … What kind of magic is this?"

Regina calmly finished making their drinks before joining Emma at the small table in front of the hearth. "I am both," she finally replied. "Rumpel made a deal with your parents — his freedom for my eternal imprisonment in a non-human form without access to magic — but as always your parents didn't read the fine print."

Emma snorted. "They never meant to honor that deal anyway, I think."

"What do you mean?"

"The Blue Fairy turned the imp to stone at their behest," Emma explained.

"Oh." That information seemed to shock Regina.

"Shouldn't you be happy that he was taken care of?" Emma asked hesitantly. "He was the one who did this to you …"

"He did it because your oh so honorable parents forced him to," Regina retorted. "He was also the only one who could end this curse."

"Hmm." Emma digested the information. "My mother seemed quite shocked when she figured out that you were still alive," she pointed out after a moment. "And I bet she'd be even more surprised if she saw you now. Unless you were a toddler when you drew her hate, I can see why …"

"Rumpel doesn't … didn't react well to being forced to do anything he didn't want to do," Regina explained. "So he made sure to create a lot of loopholes in the deal. He did turn me into a unicorn — a non-human form incapable of doing magic — but only from sunrise to sunset. At night I am my old self."

"My parents suspect that he put some kind of protection spell on you …"

There was a short flicker of hesitation on Regina's face before it was replaced by an almost placid smile. "He did provide protection, both for my human form and the unicorn, yes," she admitted. "What your parents clearly didn't know, however, was that while unicorns have no magic to wield, they are in itself magical creatures with innate magical properties. In this case, the deal they made with Rumpel ensured that I would never age until the curse was lifted. The hours I age during the night, are regenerated every day by the unicorn form. Your parents idiotic insistence on making deals with Rumpelstitskin managed to make me essentially immortal."

"Is there really no way to break this curse?" Emma asked. "If you want it broken, that is."

Regina shook her head. "Believe me, I tried, at least for the first few years. The remainder of my own magic is useless against it unfortunately."

"You have magic?"

"Rumpel stripped most of it but left me enough for simple tasks that make life easier in this form … and ensure my survival." Regina moved her hand, making a plate of food appear in front of Emma. "I'm assuming you're hungry?"

"Starving!" Emma dug in. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Regina sounded a little unsure. "I don't understand you, Princess. Why are you here?"

Emma swallowed down the food in her mouth. "I don't really know," she murmured. "There was something about the unicorn … _you_ that spoke to me … and then my parents talked about hunting you down and killing you … and I just couldn't let that happen."

"I killed your grandfather," Regina suddenly revealed, voice even. "And many, many other people. Maybe your parents are right to want me dead."

"W-Why?" Emma gasped.

"Why what?"

"Why did you kill him?"

"What does that matter?"

"Reasons matter," Emma insisted. "So why?"

"Because I hated him and he made my life miserable," Regina replied tonelessly, although Emma could see real pain in her eyes. She realized then and there that no matter what the woman sitting across from her _said_, her eyes would always reveal what she was actually feeling. And what Emma saw was a lifetime's worth of pain.

"All right." Emma nodded once, slowly. "Why kill all the other people then?"

Regina gaped at her. "All _right_?" she blurted, and Emma felt proud she had made her lose her composure. "How can you say that?"

"I'm not saying I think it's all right to kill people," Emma clarified. "Just that sometimes people can be pushed so hard and hurt so badly that they feel like there's no other way." Emma sipped from the cup Regina had provided and grunted in appreciation when she realized it was apple cider. "So why kill the others?"

Regina sighed. "I was at war with your mother," she explained softly. "Some were casualties of war, some were actively helping your mother or simply hiding her. I hate your mother, and I wanted her dead." She saw Emma open her mouth. "And before you ask: I hate her because she was the reason I had to marry your grandfather."

"There is so much I don't know, so much nobody ever told me," Emma murmured. "Why would they do that? Why keep this part of our history from me?"

"To protect you?" Regina ventured. "Why make you worry about things that don't matter anymore …" She added laconically, indicating herself in her simple dress, sitting in a small cottage in the forest. "Or maybe simply to allow you to see them as perfect leaders? Giving you an example of what they want you to be once you begin your rule."

Emma snorted and almost choked on her food. "Well, that worked out well. I have no plans of following my mother onto the throne. Ever."

Regina raised an eyebrow but didn't comment as she didn't take the princess' words too seriously. "Why don't you tell me why you seem to be the only person not completely enamored by Snow White?"

Emma swallowed and cleared her throat. "I will after you tell me the rest of your story while I finish eating," she countered. "Why did you have to marry the king? What did my mother do?"

Regina stared into the fire for a long time, so long in fact that Emma was beginning to think she wouldn't get an answer. Her food rested on her plate, forgotten despite her hunger as she watched the slightly older woman, fascinated by the emotions racing across her beautiful features. _She wouldn't last a day in the snake pit of intrigue that was her mother's court,_ Emma thought. _At least not anymore._

Finally, Regina looked up and met Emma's eyes. "Very well," she rasped. "I will share my story." She pointed at the food. "Eat."

Emma took another bite as Regina haltingly began to tell the story of a young girl and her simple dreams which were destroyed by the machinations of a power-hungry mother and the selfishness of a spoiled child. The food tasted stale in Emma's mouth when Regina spoke of the heartless way her first love had been killed due to Snow White's inability to keep a secret, and she put the food down completely when Regina tonelessly reported the ingredients of an abusive marriage.

"I'm so sorry," Emma breathed when Regina stopped to take a breath. "So sorry my family caused you all that pain."

Regina waved Emma's concern away. "It's long in the past and we all have to live with it now."

"But my parents get to live in that white castle lording it over everybody with their _goodness_," Emma groused. "While you sit here in a cottage during the night and roam the woods as a unicorn during the day."

"I've had close to thirty years to get used to it," Regina replied softly. "And frankly, this life is a thousand times better than my life as a queen in that castle, a life I never wanted anyway. This is much closer to the life I dreamed of as a girl, apart from the daily morphing … and the immortality. But one day soon your mother will be old and frail and I will still be here. I will _always_ be here ... which is just as much a blessing as it is a curse."

"Let me help you get your life back," Emma pleaded. "If it's in a castle or this cottage or wherever you want to live," — she almost said _we_ — "whatever you want to do … allow me to help you. Let me try and find a way to undo this curse on you."

"Oh, Princess," Regina said with a sad smile. "There is but one way to break this curse and that chance was lost many, many years ago." Her words were firm and resigned, but Emma noticed that her voice wasn't.

"How?" Emma jumped up. "Tell me, so I can make it happen!"

The sad smile on Regina's face got sadder. "The only thing to break any curse is true love's kiss. Didn't your precious parents tell you that, Princess?"

"Could you stop with that, please? I'm not much of a princess."

"What are you then?" Regina asked, her voice less mocking than Emma expected. "A knight perhaps, on a grand quest to save the damsel in distress?"

Emma snorted. "I doubt very much that you're a damsel."

"But you believe I'm in distress?"

"Perhaps," Emma admitted. "And yes, my parents regaled me with stories of their true love's kiss and its magic. They claim only people with pure hearts can have true love ... which is a load of horseshit, now that I think about it … There's no way their hearts are as pure as they claim!"

"That may be so, Princess, but mine _most definitely_ isn't," Regina reminded her guest softly.

"Neither is mine."

Their eyes met, and the air around them prickled with a sudden charge. Then Emma yawned, breaking the moment, and Regina followed suit in pure reflex.

"We should sleep, sunrise will come soon enough," Regina suggested, tired from recounting her life and talking far longer than she had in decades. "Come, my knight," she teased. "You can swear your allegiance to me in the morning."

"I can do it right now," Emma protested, even as she followed Regina to the ladder that led to the loft.

"I was joking."

"I'm not."

They went to bed in their clothes, wary of shedding too many layers in the cold night and with a stranger next to them, but Emma's body was still drawn to the source of warmth next to her.

"Princess," came the low warning when Emma rolled into Regina's back for the second time.

"I can't help it, it's this mattress," Emma replied meekly. It wasn't, but it served as a good excuse. "Besides, it's cold."

Regina let out a long sigh. "Fine," she huffed. It _was_ much colder now that the fire in the hearth was dying down. That was _all_ this was, she told herself, and not the fact that the first human contact in almost 30 years felt so unbelievably good. She didn't know what it was about Snow White's daughter of all people that brought out these almost forgotten feelings in her, but right now she was too tired to think much about it. Or about the fact that Emma had managed to simply stroll through the protective barrier that hid her cottage from the rest of the world — without a hint that she had even noticed. No, it was better not to dwell on that or the way the body next to her felt warmand comfortable, and _right_. Unconsciously, she wiggled a little closer to the body behind her, willing herself to fall asleep before she did something idiotic and potentially irreversible like turning around and kissing the woman who had waltzed through Regina's personal defenses and made her _feel_ as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

No, it was better not to ponder the reasons for all of that at all.

Emma snuggled closely to Regina's back and breathed in her scent with something very close to contentment. In the morning she would start out trying to find a way to find Regina's true love, or — she added when that thought left her with an uncomfortable twinge — she'd find another way to break the curse.

When she was sure Regina was asleep, her breaths deep and even in the still of the night, Emma pressed a kiss to the shoulder she was resting against. "You have my allegiance, Regina," she whispered. "Whether you want it or not. And I will find a way."

Regina didn't open her eyes but there was a small smile and a lone tear on her face, and her chest widened in something like hope.

**The End**


	15. Wild West: Little Farm on the Prairie

**AU Challenge / Challenge on Infinite Earths**

**Day 15: Wild West AU**

**Summary: Emma Swan gets seriously wounded by a cougar. Help comes in the form of a beautiful woman and her son who live on a little farm on the prairie. Hurt/comfort.**

**Disclaimer: Not my characters.**

**A/N: The longest challenge post yet (but I guess you won't mind).**

* * *

**Little Farm on the Prairie (or How Do You Thank A Cougar)  
**

_Never ever get between a predator and its evening snack,_ Emma Swan thinks with a pained grimace as she tries hard to bite back the pained groan sitting in her throat_. _In this case, between a cougar and the deer that was supposed to provide Emma with meat and skin, both for herself as well as for trade. She didn't even have time to get her Winchester up to shoot at the cat before it was on her with a ferocious growl, jaws open wide, claws out. The only saving grace for Emma was that she has her Bowie knife strapped to her thigh and managed to get it out to swipe at the cougar a couple of times. She nicked the cat, she knows, but that is little comfort when it got her good and well in return before running off.

And the deer is long gone, too.

Emma takes a deep breath as she surveys the damage the cat has done, trying to focus through the black spots dancing before her eyes. The sun is setting fast now, and she knows she needs to get off this mountain or the cougar is sure to come back to finish what it started, and with it half its family probably. Her soft black shirt is ripped across her stomach, her leather vest proving ineffective against sharp claws, and she can see the ugly gashes on her stomach. _Not too deep_, she thinks, _hopes_. There are more tears in her shirt on her left arm, and it feels sticky _everywhere_. Emma is almost happy she can't see the blood stains on the dark material but she really doesn't need that information anyway to know it's not looking good right now. She can feel the blood running down her body, and when she puts her knife back in its sheath, she can also see a few long gashes across her left thigh. She squints to see if there really is white bone visible in one of the deeper wounds or if she's imagining it because it hurts so damn much. Her stomach rebels at the sight, and she loses what little she had to eat for lunch. There's no doubt that she needs to get help, and fast.

_Well, this is going to be pleasant_, she thinks as she lets out a weak whistle to call Snow. Her horse ran at the first sight of the cougar, but now it comes back, shaking its head as if in regret. The white horse nuzzles her face before Emma walks to the side and tries to pull herself onto the saddle with only her good arm and her good leg. It's almost impossible but finally she manages to swing her injured leg over the saddle by leading Snow to the side of boulder and using that as a boost. She holds her breath and focuses on not keeling over and falling straight back down when the pain of all her wounds hits her at the same time after the massive effort. After several minutes of deep, albeit ragged, breathing, Emma straightens in the saddle, jaws clenching so hard against the pain that she's afraid she's going to break something. But at least she stays conscious, and Emma knows to not take that for granted.

_So far, so good._

She digs in her saddle bag for a long strip of leather and ties her legs to the saddle close to the hips, hoping it would help stop her body from falling off since one of her legs is pretty much useless. Then she steers Snow in the direction of Dorado Crossing and hopes for the best.

Emma isn't even halfway down the mountainside when Snow jerks away from a raccoon that crosses their path unexpectedly in the dark, jostling Emma's whole body, pulling open wounds that had just barely begun to stop bleeding.

And then everything goes black.

o-o-o

Emma regains some of her senses some time later — _minutes, hours, days?_ —when she feels a shadow looming over her. She tries to get to her knife to defend herself but her body doesn't heed her commands, and she is left with faint scrabbling movements of her hand against her leg. Somewhere in her brain she registers that she's not on a horse anymore, and that what her fingers are touching is not the leather of her breeches, but surprisingly soft cloth.

There are softly spoken words, more of a murmur, but Emma can't make out any of what is being said. All she registers is that she doesn't feel threatened and the pain is not as bad as it was. She fights her body's desire to just go back to being numb, but it is to no avail, and before she can even fully wake up, she's out again, never really seeing the figure looming over her, pressing a cold compress against her forehead, whispering words of comfort.

o-o-o

The next time Emma becomes aware of anything it's the sound of two voices having a hushed conversation somewhere close to her.

"Do you think she's going to be all right?" a voice asks, and it sounds like a boy.

"I don't know," a woman replies. "I'm doing what I can."

Emma tries to move but there are spikes of pain all over her body, so she groans instead. She hears footsteps through the rushing in her own ears, and the woman's voice is suddenly much closer. "Henry, bring me some more of the tea."

Emma fights her way to consciousness but it's a slow process. She tries to open her eyes but they won't work, so she tries to push herself up on her elbows instead to show she's awake. Her left arm protests loudly but before she can sink back into the mattress, there's an arm behind her back, steadying her, holding her up, and Emma has no choice but to accept the help, no matter how much she hates relying on other people. Looks like you don't really have a choice when you manage to almost kill yourself.

"Easy," the woman murmurs as she carefully pushes her up into a reclining position and puts more pillows behind her back. "There you go."

"The tea, Mom," the boy's voice is back, and it's not quite as young as Emma first thought.

"Thank you, dear." There's a pause, then Emma can feel the rim of a wooden cup against her lips. "Here," the beautiful voice murmurs, "drink this. Slowly, it'll help with the pain."

Emma recognizes the smell and tries not to recoil at the expected bitter taste. Willow bark tea, her brain informs her, but there's also something else. She sips slowly, and wonders if it's the tea that's relaxing her body immediately or the slow, soothing movement of a thumb at the back of her neck. "Thank you," she tries to say but what comes out is a rasp and a cough.

The cup disappears but the hand and thumb don't, and _oh_ this feels nice. Emma sighs as she feels herself going under again with alarming speed. _The tea then_, is her last thought, and it's somehow disappointing.

o-o-o

Emma feels the mattress dip a little as someone sits down at the edge of the bed. The covers she's lying under are drawn back, and soon she can feel sure fingers against the wounds on her stomach.

"Can you open your eyes?" the woman asks when Emma gasps at a touch.

Emma is determined to finally put a face to the voice and struggles to follow the request. It feels like it takes forever but finally her eyes open enough for her to make out the sight of the woman.

She gasps again but this time it has nothing to do with pain.

The woman withdraws her hand immediately. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, Miss Swan," she says. "But I need to check the bandages. The wounds on your arm are healing quite well, but your stomach and leg are proving to be rather more … obstinate."

"How …" Emma clears her throat. "How do you know my name, Mrs.—?"

"Mills," the woman replies with a small smirk. "Regina Mills. You may call me Regina, I guess."

Emma struggles to sit up a little straighter and flushes hotly when Regina has to help her and accidentally brushes against her breast. "Regina," she tests out the name and likes the way it rolls off her tongue. "My name is Emma, but I guess you knew that already," she says with a small smirk. "What I still don't know is how …"

Regina returns the smirk with a crooked smile. "You haven't changed that much in the past ten years," she replies. "And Henry has an unfortunate fondness for outlaw stories. You were notorious enough for him to have your wanted poster in his collection."

"Henry?"

"My son."

"Ah." Emma looks slightly uncomfortable. "I'm not that person anymore."

Regina makes a non-committal sound. "I heard," she murmurs. "Pity, really. I might have had use for a gunslinger around here."

"Why are you helping me?" Emma remembers to ask. "Even if I've changed, the law is still looking for me in these parts. Why are you not scared?"

"Henry found your horse with your unconscious body half hanging off the saddle at the eastern edge of our land when he came back from repairing a fence," Regina explains. "I'm not in the habit of ignoring people who need help, and _you_ needed all the help we can give … and maybe even more. It's your bad luck that Dr. Hopper is away right now." She sighed. "What on earth did you wrestle with? A bear?"

"Hungry cougar."

"I've never seen gashes so deep like the one on your leg … I had a hard time stitching that close. You shouldn't put any weight on that leg for at least another week."

"Thank you." The words are heartfelt, and Emma's smile is genuine. The smile she gets in return is wide, almost blinding, and robs Emma of her breath. "What does your husband have to say about this?" she asks.

The smile slides from Regina's face. "There is no …" She shakes her head once. "It's just Henry and me."

Emma takes a breath to say something … _anything_, but before she can open her mouth, Regina shakes her head again. "Enough talking," she rasps. "Let me change your bandages, Miss Swan. You don't want these gashes to become infected."

Emma grits her teeth, against the pain and against the closeness of Regina's hands to parts of her body that are way too happy about it. She tries to put it down to not having been touched by loving hands in far too long but a big part of her knows that's not it, at least not entirely. Not when Regina's smile made her stomach feel funny, or the thought that there was no husband filled her with a kernel of something warm in her chest.

o-o-o

Over the next few days Emma gets stronger and her wounds begin to heal better, especially since Regina sternly reminds her to stay in bed. She's met Henry, who asks her a million questions about the life of an outlaw whenever Regina is busy with something else. Given that she and Henry run the small farm alone, one of them is always busy, and most of the time it's both of them.

In the evenings, and whenever Regina comes in to take care of her, she and Emma talk, and Emma has never felt this kind of connection between strangers before. Regina reads her poetry and articles from the month-old newspaper and when Emma admits she can't read or write very well, Regina offers to teach her. At first Emma wants to decline, but only until Regina sits down on the bed beside her, leaning against the headboard, shoulder to shoulder with Emma so she can point out the letters as she voices them.

Emma is a willing and eager student — even when Henry takes over when his mother is otherwise occupied — but finds it very hard to focus on letters when she can feel and smell and see Regina from this close. The longer this goes on, the more it becomes torture for Emma. But oh what sweet torture it is.

She knows she shouldn't feel this way, shouldn't crave Regina's smiles, her touch, being near her, just breathing the same air, but she can't really help herself. She knows it's wrong — she's only ever met one other woman who shared her proclivities —, knows that Regina is only helping her because it's the good, Christian thing to do, and rewarding that by looking at her with hungry eyes is uncouth and just plain wrong.

Emma knows all of it, but it really doesn't matter to her body — or her heart —which leaves her with only one course of action: as soon as she's able, she'll get on her horse and ride away from this place and the people in it as fast and as far as she can.

Emma is so busy beating herself up that she completely misses the way Regina looks at her whenever Emma is unaware. Like she's looking at her right now.

"You're not paying attention," Regina murmurs softly, and her voice and breath tickle Emma's ear.

"I am," Emma protests. _Just not to the letters._

o-o-o

"I need to wash," Emma declares the next morning when Henry is out checking fences. "Is there a trough out back or something I can use?"

Unexpectedly, Regina flushes. "Nonsense," she chides. "I'll ready a bath for you. It might not be piping hot but still better than the trough. Besides, you'll need help."

"But Henry ..."

"Henry won't be back for hours yet," Regina says confidently. The she leans in with a playful grin and sniffs. "Yes, I'd say your last sponge bath was too long ago. How neglectful of me."

Emma swallows hard at the images in her head. "Sponge bath?" When had she missed _that_?

"How else do you think all that blood disappeared from your body?" Then she leaves the room, leaving Emma to stare after her with a mostly silent groan.

o-o-o

Regina drags the heavy tub closer to the fire, all the while berating herself for suggesting the bath. She knows that it's either that or another sponge bath — Emma's body surely isn't up to a dip in the horse's trough outside, and she would never make anyone do that anyway — but both options present a problem for Regina: she's going to have to help Emma, and Emma's going to be naked.

And Regina has no idea how she's going to manage not to stare or touch that body where she isn't supposed to.

She fills their two largest buckets with water and sets them on the stove to heat, then goes outside to get some more water from the pump. She wonders when she started looking at Emma that way, but she fears it's been almost from the very beginning. It confused her at first, this inability to tear her eyes away from the body that was revealed under the clothes, and she remembers biting her lip almost all the way through when she saw the ugly wounds marring that beautiful flesh.

She can never let Emma know that she mapped her whole body while she was unconscious, can never reveal that the exercise of cleaning her, of binding her wounds, of taking care of her made her want to _touch, touch, touch_ that body. She hasn't, though, would never, but the temptation is there every time she changes a bandage, which is mostly why Emma hasn't gotten a sponge bath in a few days.

Now that Regina has come to know Emma a little better, has talked to her, has learned to appreciate her quick wit, has seen her good heart despite her bad past, _now_ it's getting ever more difficult not to stare, not to let those feelings come out. Feelings she shouldn't be having, feelings she's never had for another woman, feelings she would be driven out of town for. Feelings her mother would kill her for.

Feelings Emma can never know about.

And Henry … oh God, _Henry_. What would he say if he knew?

No, she thinks as she fills the wooden tub with water, she has to bury these strange feelings deep, deep, deep down as long as Emma is still here, and then, once Emma is gone again … well, she's sure the feelings will leave with her.

At least that's what she hopes.

"Did I do something to upset you?" Emma asks from where she's leaning against the doorframe leading to the bedroom, wearing nothing but one of Daniel's old shirts, the softest one Regina could find, and her drawers that Regina had to cut off very close to her private parts to take care of the wound. The shirt covers her to about mid-thigh when she's standing but it looks oh so enticing. Apart from the thick bandages around her leg but even those can't mar the beauty that is Emma Swan.

Regina has to clear her throat. "No, why would you think that?"

"Your face is all stormy," Emma explains around a small chuckle, the sound doing nothing to make Regina feel _less_.

"I was just thinking …" Regina busies herself with the water buckets, emptying them into the tub until the water is a few inches high. "That's all we can use right now," she says apologetically, not turning around to face Emma again. She can't. "You can't get your wounds wet."

"I understand."

Emma's voice is close enough to cause a shiver down her spine, which Regina hopes goes unnoticed.

It doesn't. "Are you cold?" Emma is closer still, just a few inches away now.

Regina's hands curl into tights fists to stop them from reaching behind her. She's never felt that way, and she is mortified at the lack of control she seems to have over her own body's reaction to the former outlaw.

"Regina?"

Regina shakes her head — she can't possibly speak right now lest her voice betray her thoughts — and takes a few quick steps away from Emma. _More water, _she thinks, looking for an excuse. She grabs a bucket, and almost runs out the back door.

Emma watches her, puzzled, wondering what has her so spooked all of a sudden. Her own body is buzzing from how close they just were, and then she realizes that she might have been too close, that Regina must have been uncomfortable. _Swan, you idiot._

Regina returns, looking a little less frazzled. "You should get in there before the water gets cold," she orders without looking up.

Emma blushes and clears her throat. "Look, I know you're uncomfortable around me," she blurts, causing Regina to look up sharply. "And I'll be out of your hair as soon as possible but …" She bites her lip. "I think I might need some help."

Regina can see how much it costs Emma to admit that. Her heart opens a little more to the woman in front of her. She nods and closes the distance between them. "Allow me," she rasps, grabbing the hem of the shirt covering Emma's body.

"What are you doing?" Emma's voice is shaky, and she's suddenly breathless at the thought of being naked in front of Regina. That wasn't what she had meant.

"You can't keep that on," Regina explains softly. "That would defeat the purpose."

"Henry …" It's the only thing Emma can think of to say.

"I told you he won't be back for hours." With that, Regina pulls the shirt up, and Emma raises her arms without a second thought, leaving her standing there in her cut-off drawers. Emma fidgets with her arms, feeling rather vulnerable like this.

Regina raises an eyebrow when she notices. "It's nothing I haven't seen before," she murmurs. "I _have_ been cleaning your wounds for the past week …"

Emma exhales slowly and tries to relax but it's harder than she thought it would be, standing here in front of the woman she finds so damn distracting and alluring. She picks at the hem of her drawers.

"Sorry," Regina winces. "I had to cut them off to get at the gashes on your leg," she explains. "And since Henry was present, I couldn't very well take them off. I tried to keep you covered as best I could."

"That's all right."

"Well, Henry's not here now …" Regina hints. When Emma just stares at her, she rolls her eyes and adds, "If you take them off, I'll wash them together with the shirt. You can have a fresh shirt after the bath and you can have one of my knickers."

Emma hesitates for a long second, then shrugs. She's never been particularly modest, so why is she making such a fuss about being naked now? Ignoring the voice inside her head that tells her _exactly_ why she's feeling this way, she carefully pulls down the drawers and steps into the tub as quickly as she can with her injuries.

"Careful," Regina warns, by Emma's side in a second.

"I've got this," Emma replies softly but she's grateful for the steadying presence of the hand on her back. That was the help she knew she needed and almost forgot about in her nakedness.

"I'm sure." Regina's voice is unsteady, and she has to focus much too hard on just keeping her hand on Emma's muscular back without starting to roam all over it. She stares upward, counting the beams in her very familiar ceiling because it's the only way she's not openly staring at the wonder that is Emma Swan.

Finally, Emma sits in the shallow water, legs bent to fit into the small tub. Regina clears her throat and grabs the small sponge and a piece of soap, and without a second thought, starts running the sponge over Emma's body. She starts out as business-like as she can, not lingering in any way, not even noticing Emma's stunned silence. But second by second her hand moves slower and slower, and it's not just the sponge that touches skin, it's the tips of her fingers as well.

Regina's eyes are roaming all over Emma's body now, as if in a trance, following the trail of her hand hungrily. She doesn't notice Emma's stare, doesn't see the flush covering most of her skin until she runs her hand down Emma's front — careful of the wounds on her stomach, always careful — and there's a breathless gasp. Regina's hand stops against Emma's stomach while her eyes wander up to meet Emma's.

The fire she sees in them, the answering hunger, causes her to drop the sponge and withdraw her hand as if burned.

"No!" Emma's command comes out as a low, guttural growl. "Don't stop … please don't stop."

Regina swallows hard, once, then a second time. And then their mouths meet in a furious kiss, the likes of which Regina never knew to be possible between two women. She has no idea who moved first — nor who lets out the almost pained moan — but it really doesn't matter. She hasn't felt like this in years, if ever, and she can't get enough.

Emma turns her body towards Regina, tangling her hands in dark hair, and kisses her with everything she has to give. Soon enough, however, the edge of the tub presses too hard against the side of her breast, and Emma wants to feel Regina's body, wants to touch Regina, not a wooden tub filled with a couple of inches of now tepid water.

Emma wrenches her mouth away from Regina's, realizing her mistake only when Regina begins to apologize immediately. "Sorry, so sorry," she mumbles, looking shocked. "I didn't … I shouldn't … I don't … I jus—"

"Regina," Emma murmurs. "Look at me."

Regina looks up, meeting Emma's eyes reluctantly. "I just can't seem to help myself," she rasps. "I know it's unnatural, but I feel so … _drawn_ to you. I can't seem t-to take my eyes off you."

"I feel the same way," Emma replies. "I only stopped because I think I should get out of this tub." She grins shyly. "Do you think we could maybe go back into the bedroom?"

Regina smiles mischievously. "Are you tired?" Despite her smile, Emma can hear the concern in her voice.

"No," she replies softly. "Not even a little bit." She pushes herself to a standing position in the tub and revels in the way Regina's eyes are glued to her body, unable to look away from the water droplets running down her legs and towards her private region. If there ever was a confidence booster than it was Regina Mills looking at your naked body like you were dinner, Emma thinks as she climbs out of the tub with as much swagger as she can muster, dragging a speechless Regina into the bedroom with her and closing the door as they go.

They stop next to the bed, shyness returning with a vengeance. Emma becomes acutely aware of her nakedness as Regina stands before her, still in her dress, looking almost perfectly put together apart from her slightly mussed hair and her flushed cheeks.

"May I?" Emma asks, indicating Regina's hair.

There's just the slightest moment of hesitation before Regina nods, and it only takes a second for Emma to pull out the hairpins, loosen the braid, and run her hand through the silky, dark locks. "You're so beautiful," Emma whispers reverently, pressing close to Regina, before leaning in and kissing her again. The kiss starts out soft, almost innocent, before the fire in their bellies takes over and pushes them closer together, striving for deeper contact.

Regina's knees buckle under the pressure of the feelings coursing through her and she holds onto Emma with all her might before she remembers that the woman she's clinging to still has some major injuries from a cougar attack. She loosens her hold on Emma, or at least she wants to, but Emma pulls her back in, not willing to let her go even an inch. It doesn't take long for Emma's hands to start grappling at Regina's dress, and almost no time at all for Regina to assist the wandering hands with the opening of buttons, hidden and not, and the removal of barriers.

And then they're both naked and simply staring at each other, until that becomes unbearable, and they're crashing together like the waves on a rocky shore. Emma moans loudly and feels her knees actually buckle. She digs her fingers into Regina's shoulders to steady herself and breaks their kiss. "Need to … lie down," Emma says but before they can move even an inch, they are kissing again.

With the way Emma's tongue is delving deeply into her mouth, Regina agrees that a horizontal surface might be a good idea. She has no idea how long she'll be able to stand if Emma continues kissing her that way. They tumble onto the bed, Regina's breath escaping her in a rush when Emma lands on top of her. Emma lets out a small groan at the unbelievably good feeling of Regina's small, firm body trapped beneath her own. Their breasts are perfectly aligned, hard nipples rubbing against each other, and Emma can feel every tiny, wonderful reaction of Regina's body.

Regina looks up into Emma's eyes, seeing the desire that is threatening to pull her in, making her forget everything around them. Then Emma starts sucking on the pulse point on her neck, which has Regina pressing her head deeper into the pillow with a drawn-out moan. Emma gently licks the mark before returning once more to Regina's lips, exploring her mouth for a moment before retreating just as quickly to travel down the beautiful body spread before her.

The second her lips close around a nipple, Regina's back is arching and a hiss escapes her lips as her hands fly into the mass of golden hair to hold onto something. Emma's mouth wanders down, her tongue tracing stretch marks, teeth nibbling on soft skin. Regina doesn't know whether to groan in pleasure or try to roll away and hide herself, so new is the sensation. Nobody's ever used their mouth to caress her on any other body part but her face or hands, but the feeling is as exhilarating as it is frightening.

Emma can feel the muscles under her lips tense. "Does that bother you?" she murmurs, crawling up a little, unable to resist pressing a kiss against Regina's sternum.

"I don't … what are you doing?" Regina whispers roughly.

"Learning you," Emma replies softly, her lips pressed against Regina's throat. "Trying to make you feel good."

She rocks her hips, pressing her thigh against Regina's sex, and smiles at the noise she manages to draw forth with that. "Do you like that?"

Regina nods and tightens her hands in Emma's hair. "Can you … do it again?"

"I can do something even better," Emma promises as she moves both her legs into the cradle of Regina's hips. She presses their bodies together, then starts moving slowly. Her leg throbs a little but she ignores it, just puts her weight more on her knees and hips.

Regina gasps at the feeling, and it only takes a second for her to wrap her legs around Emma's hips to increase contact. This is something that's at least a little more familiar, and it feels amazing. Her hands wander around Emma's back, mindful of the scrapes there, needing something to hold onto while her mouth seeks out Emma's in a desperate, open-mouthed kiss.

Emma's arousal spikes so suddenly that she can barely breathe, and she feels herself already closing in on her peak. The way she's pressed against Regina puts just the right kind of pressure on the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. She presses herself up on her good arm — indescribably pleased to hear Regina whine when their lips part — to reach between their bodies with her other arm. Her fingers find Regina's clit, eliciting a gasp and a sudden jerk of the hips, then move a little lower, tracing the wetness that has accumulated between them, moving her finger every which way.

"Lord have mercy," Regina breathes. "Oh, Emma."

The raw voice has Emma breathless and even closer in a heartbeat. "Jesus, Regina … you feel so good. This feels so good."

Regina mutters something that Emma doesn't quite get but soon the words that Regina keeps repeating become clearer. "More … Emma, harder … more …"

Emma is not quite certain what Regina wants _more_ of but she has an idea, so she moves her hand to Regina's entrance and lets the tip of a finger slip inside.

The response is an immediate, growled "Yes!" and Regina's hips move faster and harder against her. "More … please."

Taking that as an invitation, Emma pushes her finger as deeply into Regina's tight, warm entrance, then pulls out again, falling into a fast rhythm that has them both panting and moaning. Emma's thumb lies between their bodies, pressing against Regina's clit but also hitting Emma's every time she rocks her hips, and the result is a fast climb upwards. On the next move, Emma withdraws completely, only to push back in with two fingers. She can feel Regina tighten around her, can feel the inner walls clenching around her fingers, can feel her own insides coil with tension, can feel the heat spike at the base of her spine.

Regina's hips are moving up and down as if driven by some outside force, while her brain can only register the pleasure Emma is bringing her. She hasn't felt like this in … far longer than she can remember, and even with Daniel this kind of frenzy and mind-blowing pleasure was rare. He had always been exceedingly gentle and slow with her, touching her with reverence. Not with the wild abandon that Emma is now touching her with. Regina can feel her body tighten, can feel her feet tingle of all things, can feel a kind of pressure inside, and it's not a feeling she's too familiar with. It alarms her a little but then Emma strokes a little firmer, deeper, and all the tension resolves itself in a moment of utter bliss, forcing a cry from Regina's body that may have been Emma's name.

Emma can feel Regina's climax all along their lengths, feels the tension in her body release, hears the most beautiful scream of her name she has ever heard. She keeps on moving, trying to prolong the feeling for Regina, for them both, rocks against her own hand once, twice, three times before following Regina over the edge and into pleasure with a hoarse cry.

Then she collapses on top of Regina, fingers finally still inside her body.

After a minute, Regina exhales slowly and turns her head so she can look at Emma's face, which is nestled in the crook of her neck. She presses a kiss to Emma's forehead, nose, and finally her lips. They kiss for long moments, enjoying the feeling of just lying here together, until Regina flinches slightly.

Emma carefully pulls out her fingers and moves her weight off Regina before bringing the fingers up to her mouth without a conscious thought. She only realizes she's licking Regina's arousal off her fingers when she catches Regina's wide-eyed stare. "You taste amazing," she shrugs, hoping Regina isn't too horrified.

"I do?" The question is quiet and doubtful.

"You absolutely do," Emma assures her, and leans over to kiss Regina as proof, half expecting her to recoil. Regina's reaction, however, surprises her. She kisses back with fervor, tasting herself on Emma's lips, then sneaks a hand down to Emma's sex and runs her fingers through the lingering wetness there.

Emma is stunned when Regina brings the fingers to her mouth and licks them, tongue peeking out through her lips at first, then stuffing a whole finger in her mouth. The visual is enough to drive Emma crazy, and Regina barely has time to remove the fingers before Emma is on her again, kissing her like there's no tomorrow.

"Again?" Regina pants between kisses, against Emma's lips, as if it's the most unusual thing she's ever heard, and maybe it is.

"If you want to," Emma replies softly. "I don't think there will be a moment I won't want to do that with you …"

"What is it about you," Regina muses, "that allowed you to come into my life half dead and still steal my heart?"

Emma swallows at the words but tries not to take them too seriously. "My unconscious charm and ghastly injuries?" she jokes.

"Unconscious indeed," Regina replies with a roll of her eyes, but the smile on her face is beautiful and full of adoration. Emma feels her own heart expanding painfully and returns to kissing Regina, so as not to think about how much this complicates _everything_.

They make love again, slowly, only stopping when they hear Henry returning, which leaves them just enough time to get dressed again before he comes in from settling his horse in the barn. Regina fixes a simple dinner, which the three of them share at the table for the first time, and they both have a hard time taking their eyes off of each other. If Henry notices, he doesn't say, declaring instead that he's tired from the day and needs to sleep.

Once he disappears into the second bedroom, Emma turns to Regina. "I never asked …," she begins softly. "Where have you been sleeping?"

Regina laughs lightly. "Over there, on the floor." She points to a corner and that is when Emma sees the bedroll lying there.

"I'm so sorry," Emma blurts, "I never meant … you should have … this stops _now_."

Regina gives her a long, measured look. "Yes, I believe it will."

"What are you going to tell Henry if he asks?"

"That two women can share a bed," Regina says with a small shrug, knowing he won't ask. He's fourteen and has other things on his mind, like the girl he's been pining after, Paige. "That I was just giving you time for your injuries to heal."

Emma can't find fault with that logic — not that she's trying — so they wash the few dishes, then go to bed very early, seeing no point in wasting time sitting around. Regina insists on shirts and Emma finds a creative way to work around that, which Regina enjoys and doesn't object to. The biggest issue is noise, not shirts, they realize quickly and with a shared giggle, and they both become familiar with the feeling of Regina's pillows between their teeth.

The last thought Emma has before she finally falls asleep — sated and content in Regina's arms — is that she should thank that cougar.

Probably by turning him into a rug for this lovely home.

**The End**


	16. Superheroes: Leap of Faith

**AU Challenge**

**Day 16: Superheroes**

**Summary: All Emma White a.k.a. Black Swan wants is a night off from saving the city. And maybe a date with Regina Mills, CEO of (and Emma's boss at) Mills Corp. Nothing is ever as simple as that.**

**Disclaimer: Not my characters.**

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**Leap of Faith**

Emma Swan opens her cold beer, grabs some leftover pizza that still looks mostly okay, and gracelessly flops onto her sofa, proud she only spills a little beer onto her ratty tank. It's the hottest day of the year so far, and Emma is exhausted. A rare night off — she can't even say when the last one was — sounds like just the thing. After all, she already saved a few lives earlier that day _and_ finished an assignment for her day job.

Time to relax, let some of the other supers in this town take care of things tonight — it's not like she's the only one in New York City. She leans back against the arm of the couch with a content smile, her thoughts drifting off in the same direction all her thoughts seem to go these days, no matter what she's doing or where she is.

She can't help it, and maybe she doesn't really want to.

It doesn't matter that her mega-crush on her boss has turned into so much more over the months she's worked for the woman. It also doesn't matter that it's pathetic or that she doesn't stand a snowball's chance in hell with Regina Mills. Not to mention that it's utterly unfeasible to have a relationship with someone while you're a secret superhero on the side. That's just asking for disaster … so, yes, it's a little pathetic and stupid but all Emma can do right now is pine for her boss from afar and keep watch over her.

The ball game is in its third inning, her pizza devoured, and her bottle half empty when she hears the distinct sound of a woman screaming — and it's a voice she's entirely too attuned to for the well-being of her heart and mind. In a second, all her senses are awake, and Emma is suited up, hair hidden under her tight dark hood, and halfway out of her window by the end of the first scream, night off be damned. She listens for another sound, _anything_, even as she's already following her gut feeling, eyes scanning the city below her.

There. Again. Emma corrects her course a little and dives down, accelerating as much as she can until she can see her target.

"Get off me!" Regina Mills snarls at the man who is pressing her against the brick wall of the alley as he tries to kiss her. Her knee kicks out, aiming for his groin but her pencil skirt is hindering her movement, rendering the defense ineffective. The man squeezes her chin with one hand while the other one feels her up.

Emma drops to the ground behind the guy with a soft sound he doesn't hear over his own grunts. Her eyes meet Regina's over his shoulders and she can see the relief in the beautiful brown eyes, and maybe even something more, something she wishes were directed at her _actual_ person, not her black super costume. But in real life, they are Regina Mills, beautiful and powerful CEO of Mills Corp, and Emma White, one of her three assistants (and probably the most expendable one of them all).

Emma shakes off the depressing thought and grabs the guy by the collar of his expensive suit jacket to tear him away from Regina and toss him away. She flings him a few yards down the alley, too angry at his audacity to touch a woman that way, especially _this_ woman, to mind where he ends up. He lands hard, groaning on impact, before rolling to a stop against a chainlink fence and falling blessedly silent.

"Thank you," Regina breathes, surprisingly calm. "He was getting … uncomfortably close."

"Are you okay?" Emma wants to know, then immediately wishes she could take back the stupid question.

"I'm fine," comes Regina's calm but slightly snarky reply after a moment.

"How many times does make now? How many times did I get you out of trouble in the past two months? Five? Six? Are you keeping the other supers just as busy or is it just me?" Emma grins winningly, or at least she hopes she does.

Regina Mills' eyebrow lets her know she isn't all that successful but Emma is too busy keeping her voice low and unrecognizable, and not let her eyes meet Regina's again, not this close up, for fear of revealing her true identity. Then again, who is she kidding? As if Regina knows what her assistant's eyes look like …

"Thank you. _Again._ I have no idea why I keep getting into these situations ..."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're doing it on purpose just to see me," Emma smirks, only half joking.

Regina gives her a look but doesn't say anything, making Emma's senses tingle. Her mind runs through all their meetings as Regina and Black Swan, and she realizes that a) the incidents have indeed increased in frequency, and b) that none of them were all that serious. Almost … _almost_ as if they were planned. Except for the first one, Emma corrects in her mind. That almost got her boss killed, and it was heart-stoppingly real.

"What happens to him now?" Regina casually points at the still man on the ground at the end of the alley, pulling Emma from her thoughts.

Emma really couldn't care less. "Do you know him?" she asked with a shrug.

Regina sighs. "Unfortunately, yes," she admits. "I was just on a date with him. His name is Robin Locksley, a lawyer from one of our companies in Europe."

"Well, looks like the date wasn't all that great," Emma states more than asks, and Regina's sardonic smirk is all the answer she needs. She knows she shouldn't be this relieved at the information, but she can't help herself. It's all she can do not to blurt out that the date had not been in Regina's calendar. "He's an idiot for not treating you like a queen," she mumbles instead.

"Well, Ms. … Swan," Regina huffs, although Emma doesn't miss the slight hesitation. Then she adds, so quietly that even Emma with her super-hearing has to strain to hear it, "At least _he_ had the guts to ask ..."

With that she stalks out of the alley and into the street, all poise and grace, leaving Emma to follow her with bewildered eyes before sighing and taking care of the trash in the corner.

When she returns home, the game is in the second extra inning. Emma changes back into her tank and shorts, and flops back onto the sofa, her mind still busy trying to puzzle out what Regina was trying to tell her — or even _if_ she was trying to tell her anything at all. And which one of her two personalities?

o-o-o

The next day at work starts out strange and only gets progressively weirder over the course of a few hours.

Unlike any other day in the year that she's worked for the woman, Regina calls Emma into her office several times an hour giving her looks like she's waiting for Emma to do something. Unfortunately, Emma has no idea what, which means that her boss gets more and more irritated with each passing hour.

In a free moment just before lunch, when Regina is in a meeting, Emma skips out and runs to the deli on the corner to pick up her lunch and, on a whim, also grabs a salad and some root beer for her boss. She's sure she's the only one who knows about this secret favorite of Regina's — having discovered it when she was watching over her, floating in the air outside her penthouse apartment after the first time she saved her — and Emma is just confused enough to try and score some points in any way she can.

When she takes the lunch to her boss, Regina's face lights up for a moment — before it turns into s small smirk when she notices the drink — but when Emma turns right around to leave, she groans in frustration. "Ms. S—White," she sighs, and Emma can hear the same hesitation in her voice she could hear last night. "Why are you bringing me this?"

Emma shrugs. "I was at the deli ... and I thought ... maybe you'd enjoy a little ... you know ..." She stammers and blushes and hates herself for both. In reflex, she pushes the black-framed glasses up her nose. What is it about this woman that turns her back into her insecure teenage self?

She almost misses the way Regina's shoulders sag the tiniest amount, and only her super hearing picks up the sigh. She's still feeling like she's supposed to do something, say something but she still doesn't know what. She knows what she would _love_ to do but that would be highly inappropriate given that her boss is straight, and out of her league, and obviously none too happy with her right now.

"I'll be going then," she mutters.

The door is almost closed when she hears Regina's voice calling out to her. "Clear my schedule for the afternoon and meet me on the roof in twenty minutes," she orders.

"You have a meeting wi—"

"Do I look like I care?"

o-o-o

Emma steps out onto the roof of the Mills Corp building, 156 floors above the streets of Manhattan. She's early but apparently not early enough; Regina is already waiting for her, looking out over the city, too close to the edge of the roof for Emma's liking.

"Ms. Mills!" Emma yells out, rushing forward. "Regina! What are you doing?"

Regina looks up with an enigmatic smile at the sound of her assistant's frantic voice and her first name falling from her lips. "I'm waiting for you."

"On the fu-freaking ledge?!"

"I've been waiting for months now," Regina continues with a shrug, stepping away from the edge and slowly stalking towards Emma. "Waiting for you to trust me, to reveal yourself to me. Waiting for you to act on what you so obviously want."

Emma swallows. _How fucking obvious have I been?_ "Reveal myself?" she asks defensively. Regina can't mean what Emma thinks she might mean. "What I want?" She wants Regina with every fiber of her being but she hopes to the high heavens right now that she hasn't been as obvious about it as she fears.

"Yes, Emma," Regina drawls, still stalking closer like a predator circling its prey. "What is it exactly that you want?"

Emma is confused, and more than a little aroused at Regina's display. "I have no idea what—"

"Stop," comes the surprisingly soft order, and for the first time Emma can see something like vulnerability in Regina's eyes, hidden beneath the outward bravado. "What else do I have to do? I've been trying to figure you out for months now and I finally _have_ … I've always known you were more than just an assistant. And you always knew when I was in trouble, and you always saved me. But that's not all I … It's not who … what I … Dammit, Emma what does it take for you to ask for what you _want_?"

"We're not talking about a raise, are we?" If in doubt, deflect with humor is Emma's go-to solution for most situations.

Regina growls low in her throat as she throws up her hands in a gesture of defeated frustration. It's unusual enough for Emma to pause and consider the situation Regina has put herself in. She knows even if Regina returned her feelings she wouldn't, _couldn't_ ask her out, couldn't put herself in a position where she could be seen as potentially sexually harassing a subordinate.

What she _can_ do, however, is to open the door wide enough for Emma to just step through without fearing rejection ... or being laughed right out the door. And then something Regina said catches up to her brain. "What do you mean you figured me out?"

Regina gives her a steady look. "Do I really need to spell it out for you, Ms. Swan? I know—"

All the alarm bells in Emma's head start ringing all at once. "Swan?" she blurts out. "That's not my name."

Regina gives her a look. "Yes, it is." She smiles. "I know about your _real_ identity, Black Swan ... I know who you really are deep down inside. And I'm trying to tell you that you can trust me." Her voice is as serious as Emma has ever heard it. "I know what it's like to pretend, to let people think you're one person when you're really somebody else."

"I ... I'm ... not ..." Emma can only stutter and stammer. She feels as if she's missing something but she can't grasp it yet.

"I'm not sure if the Black Swan cares about me," Regina says slowly, "but I am quite certain that Emma does. So once again, Emma, please: tell me what you want."

Emma lets out the breath she's been holding and takes the leap. "I want to go out with you," she declares so softly that it's almost lost on the wind up here on the roof. "I ... I really like you ..."

Regina's shoulders lose their tension. "Finally," she breathes. "I like you too, Emma White or Swan or whatever your actual name is. I've been waiting for what feels like a lifetime for you to talk to me."

"White," Emma insists. "My name is Emma White. I am not the Black Swan or whoever you think I am."

Regina chuckles. "If you say so, dear." She walks into Emma's personal space and raises her hand to the thick-rimmed glasses. She slowly pulls them off and studies them. With a small smile she puts them on, pushing them up her nose in a perfect copy of Emma's nervous move. "Hmm, just as I thought."

"I can explain," Emma blurts. "It's not what you think … they just make me look more intelligent." It sounds stupid even to her own ears.

Regina's mocking eyebrow is even more impressive over the rim of Emma's glasses, which make her look sexier than Emma thought possible. She can't help herself, she pulls her boss close to her, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me," Emma breathes against Regina's lips, between the first kiss and the next. Their lips move against each other, and it's everything Emma has ever wanted.

"Looks like you were worth waiting for, Ms. Swan," Regina whispers, pulling back a little. Emma wants to tear her glasses off that smug face and kiss her senseless. But she can't, not yet.

"Regina," she warns. "I'm not —"

Regina interrupts her by kissing her again, and Emma moans even as she smiles against the softest lips she's ever felt, pressing herself tighter against her boss. But just as she tries to deepen the kiss, tries to feel more of Regina, the other woman steps back and strolls away from Emma and towards the edge of the roof.

"Regina?" Emma's mind has a hard time shifting gears, and it shows in her reaction. "Where are you … What are you doing?"

Regina throws Emma a look over her shoulder, a wide smile on her face as she takes off the glasses and tosses them towards Emma. "Proving a theory," she states casually, confidently, then breaks into a run — impressive, Emma thinks, considering she's wearing 4-inch heels on her black leather boots — and launches herself off the roof.

Leaving Emma with a split-second to make a choice.

**The End**


	17. Assassins:suddenly alive & nearly smilin

**AU Challenge / Challenge on Infinite Earths**

**Day 17: Assassins**

**Regina Mills has one job to do: kill Emma Swan. But that's not easy when you're falling in love with your target.**

**A/N: Title is taken from a song by one of my favorite bands, The Weakerthans.**

** Disclaimer: Not my characters. **

* * *

**suddenly alive and nearly smiling**

You've been hunting her for weeks now, watching, waiting, learning her moves, her strengths and weaknesses, her life. Your weapons are always at the ready — one gun in a holster resting under your left arm, another at the small of your back, a small but effective dagger in each of your boots — and all you have to do is kill Emma Swan to claim the quite considerable sum you've been promised for the job.

You've been watching, gun in hand, ready to pull the trigger several dozen times.

You can't.

So you follow Emma Swan through the streets of New York and wherever else she goes — to Boston, Philadelphia, Washington — a huntress in her own right, going about her sometimes dirty and dangerous job. You follow her as much as you can, unless you take on other jobs that come up, mostly quick work — go in, kill, claim money. You wish you could follow her all the time, just until the perfect opportunity comes for you to pull the trigger, but you can't.

This job is taking over your life.

You're there, watching from a fire escape, when a behemoth of a guy gets the drop on Emma in a dimly-lit alley one night in Boston, knocking her unconscious, a large cut on her head. You watch from your perch, hand itching to reach for the gun at your waist, thinking how easy it would be to just end the woman there.

Perfect opportunity to make it look like a random street crime, perfect opportunity to do the deed and disappear into the night. Or maybe, you think as you watch the thug lift a two-by-four and advance on a prone Emma, you should just let somebody else take care of the problem. It's not like whoever hired you would care _how_ she died as long as she was dead.

Before you know that you've come to any sort of decision you're jumping down from the fire escape, landing almost silently a yard behind the thug. Another step has one arm around his neck, a dagger already in your other hand, although you can't even remember reaching for it. There's a tiny sound and a soft exhale, then the thug drops to the floor.

You look from the dead man to your bloody dagger and back, wondering what on earth you're doing, killing him and not her. Then you shake your head — there's nothing to be done about it now — clean your knife on his clothes, and drag the guy behind a dumpster.

You spend long minutes standing over Emma's body, your dominant hand clenching and unclenching, until the woman stirs and groans as she begins to wake up. You have just enough time to disappear around a corner before Emma opens her eyes. Your fist is still clenched but it's not because you want to feel a dagger or a gun in it to finish this. It's because you almost couldn't stop yourself from leaning down and making sure the injury to Emma's head wasn't too bad, or brushing a random lock of hair out of her face.

You know you're in trouble even before you're back in your run-of-the-mill tourist hotel, standing in the shower, leaning against the wall with one hand between your legs, making yourself come with a hoarse cry, imagining Emma's green eyes looking up from where she's kneeling in front of you, lips around your clit, three of her fingers inside you, pumping just right, skirting the edge between pleasure and pain. Your orgasm is fierce and fast, and not even close to being satisfying when you open your eyes and find yourself alone.

It's not the first time that happens. It's not even just the second or third.

And when did you start calling your mark _Emma_ in your head anyway?

The next morning you're back in front of Emma's equally anonymous motel, one hand tracing patterns on the tank of your Triumph, your eyes never leaving the death trap Emma calls a car. If you waited long enough, that coffin on wheels would probably kill her first.

You straighten, alert, when Emma walks up to her car, your eyes eagerly checking the woman's face from a distance. There is no trace of blood, and you can see a semi-professional bandage at her temple, which means that Emma either went to a too-busy ER the night before or knows her way around wounds like that well enough to take care of them herself.

Probably the latter, you think as you follow Emma off the motel parking lot and back to New York, staying so far behind that you can just barely keep her in your sights. Not that it's hard with that eyesore of a car.

You're almost back to the city when your phone rings — it's the business line — so reluctantly you pull over to check the message. A rush contract, two men, double the money if you can do it within 24 hours, triple if you can make it look like a murder-suicide. You check the information that comes with the offer, and look at the photos that are provided. The money's too good to pass up, so you agree.

As you ease back into traffic — hoping against all odds that you'll catch one more glimpse of the yellow car and the woman in it — you realize that you won't be seeing Emma until the new job is done.

You kick your bike into high gear and zip down the freeway, weaving between cars almost at the full speed your bike is capable of. You barely even notice when you pass Emma's car, trundling along at just over the speed limit, and when you do, you're already a mile ahead.

Soon, you think, you'll get back to the business of killing Emma soon enough.

o-o-o

A couple of days later — some park ranger and a weird guy with an eyeliner fetish are now dead in an apparent lovers' spat, and your Cayman Island bank account has received a huge payout — you follow Emma's cell phone to a bar in her neighborhood. From the rainbow flag flying over the door you can guess the kind of bar it is, and you're actually surprised you've never been there.

You consider waiting outside but the night is warm and you're suddenly in the mood for a drink. You find a seat at the corner of the bar, a wall at your back, full view of the room, just like you prefer. You order a drink from the gorgeous bartender and let your eyes roam over the patrons in the bar, assessing threat levels, which are non-existent apart from the noise level and the fact that the floor looks like it hasn't been cleaned in a decade. The room is filled to capacity with mostly women — although you can also make out a few guys talking in a corner — and the mood seems friendly and welcoming.

The only one you don't see is your mark, and you wonder if you've been made and Emma has disappeared through a back door. Given Emma's job, you consider that a very real possibility — in fact, you're a little surprised it hasn't happened earlier with how long you're taking to kill Emma.

Then people are shifting. Your eyes zero in on Emma as if drawn there by a magnet, and after two days of not seeing her at all you drink in the sight with hungry eyes. You really need to get a grip on this _feelings_ thing, you think as you down your drink in one gulp, your eyes not straying an inch from Emma's face. And body. Good God, that body.

Emma is talking to a woman, a redhead, looking relaxed and carefree, more so than at any other time you've seen her. One of her hands is wrapped around a beer bottle, the other is gesturing as she speaks, but then lands on the other woman's arm, resting there, the movement completely natural as if she's done it a thousand times. Your eyes narrow at the sight, and you wish it were socially acceptable for you to walk up behind that stranger and just stab her. You'd do it if someone paid you for it, so why not do it for yourself?

You're just contemplating the merits of paying yourself to do the job — your eyes glaring at Emma's hand and the strangers back — when you can feel eyes on you. Your eyes move back to Emma's face and you're surprised at the unsettling, powerful feeling as your eyes meet across the bar. You try to tear your eyes away quickly so as not to be even more conspicuous than you already are, but it takes you too damn long. You can see Emma's eyebrow slowly rising, see the hand drop away from the stranger's arm as if in slow motion.

You can't remember how breathing works until you finally, finally manage to wrench your eyes away from Emma. Your mind takes you back to the thought you woke up with that morning, two fingers inside yourself, on the verge of orgasm. You'd had a dream, so real, real, _real_, of Emma fucking you against the wall, roughly pumping in and out of your core, thumb pressing rhythmically against your clit, biceps bulging from the strain. It is that image that now has your face flushed in a second, and you can't stop yourself from looking back up in Emma's direction.

Your eyes meet again, and there's no way it can be mistaken for coincidence this time. Emma's eyes stay glued to you until you have the power to look away again. You flag down the bartender with a bark and order a double, hoping more alcohol will somehow help. You don't care that you aren't exactly at your friendliest at that moment.

The bartender snarls as she slams something down in front of you that looks like no drink you've ever had, but you wonder if it matters. It's alcohol, you'll drink it. You raise the glass, trying to ignore the strange, strong smell, but before it can touch your lips, a hand on your arm stops you.

"You don't want to drink that," Emma Swan says, standing next to you, so close that you can smell her hair, her skin. It robs you of your breath.

It's possible that drink already killed half your brain cells just from its smell because you just keep staring at her until you finally manage a croaky, "I'm sorry?" after what feels like the most awkward minute of your life.

"You will be, if you drink that." Emma points at the glass in your hand. "Did you manage to piss off Ruby?"

"Who is Ruby?" You're hoping it's not the stranger you've just killed twenty different ways in your head.

Emma points at the bar. "_That's_ Ruby. She owns this place." She shoots the bartender a friendly smile. "She's great but if you do something she doesn't like, she'll fix you a drink that'll make you sick like a dog."

You set the glass down carefully, as if jostling its contents will make it explode. You've handled TNT, you know the drill. "I'm not sure what—"

"You've been watching me," Emma states confidently.

And here it is. You ready yourself for an ugly confrontation right inside this bar. If Emma really knows, then ending her right here is the worst way you could have handled this contract. One hand slowly moves to the back of your pants where one of your gun sits patiently waiting in its holster.

Your face must have shown some of your apprehension because Emma actually takes half a step back and raises her hands. "Hey, I just came over to talk," she says quickly. "I saw you look at me when I was talking to my friend, and you looked interesting a-and interested since you were glaring at Belle, so I thought …" She shrugs adorably once her rambling trails off, and Regina relaxes minutely. "You're shy, huh?"

"Sorry," you say again, sure that you've never apologized to a mark before. At least not to their face, and definitely not more than once. "Maybe I am. I don't usually do this kind of thing." It's not a lie, you've never thought about fucking a mark in your dreams almost every night. You've also never been made — or picked up by one in a bar. You're really not sure which of the two this is.

Emma's smile is sweet. "So ... can I interest you in a drink?" she asks. "With me, I mean?"

Your face relaxes a little more, and a small smirk settles around your mouth. "I might be persuaded unless I'm invading somebody's territory." Not that you'd give a fuck, and getting Emma drunk — and maybe getting a little drunk right along with her — may make killing her easier, fewer defenses to deal with and all that. "Won't your … _friend_ mind?"

Emma shakes her head and laughs. "Belle? No," she replies quickly. "But that might have been what pissed Ruby off, you know … the fact that you were throwing daggers at her wife's back with your eyes …"

"I wasn't," you protest, and it comes out a little weakly. "I was just … lost in my own thoughts."

Emma hums. "If you say so." Her fingers suddenly dance across your arm, and you try hard not to tense under the unexpected touch. "So you're not interested?"

"I didn't say that," you drawl. "I'm a little wary of your friend's drinks, though …"

It's a large enough hint. "Wanna get out of here?"

You nod before your sense of self-preservation can interfere. "Any ideas?"

Emma bites her lip, causing your desire to flare brightly. "My apartment's not too far from here," she suggests. "I'm Emma, by the way."

You put a twenty on the bar and bite your tongue hard before you blurt out something incredibly idiotic like _I know. _You remain silent, _barely_, but Emma doesn't seem to mind that you're not even giving her your name. You could give her a false one, you think, but you don't really want to hear anything but your own name coming from those lips, and that is a risk you're not willing to take. Not yet.

The walk to Emma's apartment is short and silent, and you spend the time walking half a step behind Emma, one hand on the gun at your back, trying to talk yourself into ending her before you take this too far. Unfortunately for you, Emma stops in front of her building too soon for you to make up your mind. Your hand falls from the gun as you follow Emma up the stairs with a mixture of excitement, desire, and apprehension.

You have a feeling that the only way this can go is wrong. So, so wrong. But why then does it feel so right? So inevitable?

Once you're inside the apartment, small but well-furnished and clean, which you appreciate, Emma heads for the open kitchen to get those drinks she promised while you excuse yourself to the bathroom to get rid of your arsenal. You take off your boots, making sure that the daggers aren't easily visible, then you remove your leather jacket as well. You slip out of the shoulder holster and unclip the gun and holster from the back of your belt and roll up both inside the jacket. On your way to the kitchen you drop your stuff next to the front door, before facing Emma with a smile you can only hope isn't as awkward as you're beginning to feel once more.

"Drink?" There's a glass in front of your face filled with three fingers worth of clear liquid. "Don't worry, it's just vodka."

You hum in appreciation as you take a sip. It's the good stuff. "Nice," you say, and you don't think you've ever uttered a one-syllable sentence with such flirtatious undertones before. What on earth is this women doing to you?

Apparently, you also have an effect on Emma because her eyes widen at your tone, then turn dark and hungry. Before you can brace yourself, she's on you, and you find yourself pressed between Emma's body and the kitchen counter, her mouth fierce and passionate against your lips. There's nothing tentative about the kiss, no gentle first touch, no cautious testing of the waters. No, Emma Swan dives right in, making you gasp, and that's all the invitation she needs to deepen the kiss, teasing your tongue with hers. The glass in your hand tumbles to the countertop behind you as you try to brace yourself against it, sloshing clear liquid over the rim and your fingers.

Your response is slow at first but once you get over the surprise, you return the kiss with equal passion, meeting Emma stroke for stroke, moan for moan. You pull in a desperate breath through your nostrils as your heart rate increases after skipping a few beats at the first touch of her lips on yours. Then Emma's hand is on your breast, kneading, stroking, and you break away from the kiss with a gasp that morphs into a groan when she pinches your nipple which already feels hard enough to poke through your shirt.

"You're _not_ the shy type, aren't you?" you ask breathlessly.

Emma smirks, looking even more infuriatingly attractive. "Too much?" It's a rhetorical question given your response to her kiss and her touch, and she knows it.

"Not even close," you growl, pulling her back into another kiss. Your body is heating up, and you crave her closeness, her touch, her kisses. You have no thoughts of knives or guns or killing her, only of lips and hands, and making her scream, of blowing her mind in the best possible way, just like she's blowing yours with the way her lips move over your mouth, and her tongue teases your upper lip before gently but surely tasting yours.

Emma seems to have similar ideas as she steps even closer to you, making you spread your legs a little more to make room for her. She's still in her boots, which makes her just a couple of inches or so taller than you, just enough for you to have to lean back a little to kiss her comfortably. Emma notices, maybe, because the next thing you know her hands are at the back of your thighs and she has lifted you onto the counter, pressing her hips to yours in the same suave move.

You can't help the moan that escapes your throat at the feel of her body so intimately close to yours, and for a wild moment you wish you could just vanish your clothes with a wave of your hand. Or at least have worn a skirt. A very short skirt.

But you didn't. "This … isn't going to work," you pant between kisses, the ache between your legs getting quite pronounced now. You want to feel her, want her hands on you everywhere, but mostly where you really need her right now. You want your dreams to come true. It's astounding how crazy she's making you just with her kisses and the skillful way she teases your nipples through the silk of your shirt and the lace of your bra. A few more minutes of this and the dry-humping you've got going on, and you might come without ever experiencing her touch on your skin.

"Oh, sure it is," comes Emma's confident reply, before her mouth starts a slow descent along your jaw and throat towards the opening of your shirt. She opens the top two buttons with swift fingers, revealing your bra, her mouth following every newly-unveiled inch of skin with hot, wet licks, marking your skin with a trail of fire. When her lips close around a nipple, and her tongues flicks it through the layer of lace, you almost come on the spot. You've been dreaming of this for months, but the real thing is so much better than anything you've imagined.

Emma's hand continues its way down your front until it hits the barrier of your belt. She surges up to kiss you again, maybe to divert your attention, because once her lips move back to your collarbone, your belt is undone, your pants are unbuttoned and unzipped, allowing Emma to see your black lace panties, if she only deigned to look. As it is, her eyes are locked on yours, dark and lustful, even as her right hand teases the lacy lingerie.

"Is this what you want?" Emma asks before really touching you, pausing with just the tips of her fingers inside the waistband of your panties. "Can I touch you?"

You can't get any words out, so you nod furiously, adding a groan when her fingers move lower and lower until the tips are pressed right against your opening.

"Do you even know how wet you are?" Emma asks, and you're happy to hear that her voice is strained as well. "How good you feel? All silky and hot … and so, so wet for me."

You can't take it any longer. "Inside, now," you order, your voice as low as you've ever heard it. "Fuck me."

Emma's grin is slightly evil, which only serves to make it very sexy in your eyes. "Your wish is my command." With that, she pushes her hand deeper into your panties, entering you with one swift thrust. You're so wet you can't tell if she uses two or three fingers, but it also doesn't really matter. It's good, it's just what you need, hot and hard, despite the lack of space. You both know this is going to be fast, _has_ to be fast due to the position, and Emma does her very best to make you come without much fanfare, which is exactly what you need right now.

You shimmy your hips on the countertop moving as close to the edge as you can, spreading your legs as far as your clothed state allows, curling them around her hips and hooking your ankles behind Emma's ass to give her the maximum amount of room for her hand. She makes good use of it, managing to steady your rather precarious position by hooking her free arm around the small of your back and pressing her lower body to your front, knees against the cabinets, keeping you at the edge and giving her thrusts more power. Her biceps are bulging with the strain she's putting her arms through, and it's that sight as much as what her hand is doing to you with its rhythmic in and out, and a thumb circling on your clit, that has you close to coming in no time flat.

When Emma curls her fingers a little more, hitting just the right spot again and again, and moves her mouth to one of your nipples, biting it through the fabric of your bra, you come with a howl, your whole body trembling in her hold, head banging into the cabinet behind you, legs falling from around her body, every muscle feeling like it's been turned into jelly.

Emma keeps her hand inside you, thumb still lightly pressing on your clit, fingers moving _just_ a little inside you, guiding you through your orgasm. You wrap your hands in her hair and pull her face up, needing to kiss her, to feel her lips, to breathe her in, even if you can barely draw breath with your heart threatening to hammer its way out of your chest.

Emma moves willingly, and the kiss surprises you with its tenderness. You didn't expect that, didn't expect the gentleness with which her mouth caresses yours, and you're mortified when your eyes fill with tears at the thought of what could have been under different circumstances.

You part after only a few short moments when Emma winces into the kiss. She slowly withdraws her hand from inside your body, then your pants, moving it straight to her mouth to taste you. Your faces are so close that the smell of your own arousal coating her fingers hits you full force, and before your brain can kick in, you're kissing her around your fingers, sharing the taste, making you both moan low in your throats.

Once her hand is clean Emma leans heavily against you, her forehead on your shoulder, breathing you in but otherwise still, eyes closed, and you wonder what's going on inside her head. "Look at me," you plead softly.

She lifts her head and you almost gasp at the burning desire you can see in her eyes when they meet yours. You cup her cheek, stroking her face with your thumb, until she turns her head and presses a kiss to your palm. Your breath catches in your throat as the situation becomes clearer and clearer to you: this is so much more than just scratching an itch. This is more than you fulfilling your dreams, of you getting her out of your system so you can end your fucking mission. This is about two people finding each other against all odds — and you _ending_ your mission, just a different way.

You have to find a different way.

Tomorrow. For now, you'd be happy just to finally feel her against you, make her feel what she just made you feel. Tomorrow you can figure out what to do about everything else.

"Thank you," you whisper, ever the polite lover, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. "Can we get naked now so I can return the favor?"

To your surprise Emma sighs and takes a step back, causing you to almost fall off the counter. Without her warmth, her closeness, you feel ridiculous, sitting there with your shirt half undone and your pants wide open. "Emma?"

"I know who you are," Emma whispers. "I know what you are … I just couldn't help myself and I figured if I'm still alive, there must be a reason, right?"

Her words don't compute, not even a little. _What? How?_

Emma sees the confusion in your eyes. "I've been warned," she answers the unasked question. "I think by the same person who is behind your contract. And they offered to pay me the same money they offered you, if I take you out first."

"What are you …" You stop. None of this is making any sense to you, and that has nothing to do with the way your brain just short-circuited during your orgasm. You become horribly aware of your vulnerable position but Emma doesn't even seem to notice.

"I've been watching you for months now," she continues softly. "Just like you watched me. When you weren't following me, I was following you. Thank you for saving my life in Boston the other night, by the way."

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog from your brain. "Why am I still alive?" you rasp.

"Why am _I_ still alive?" she replies, and you both know the answer is the same. "Just answer me one question," she demands, and her voice is hoarse.

You have no idea what's going to come out of her mouth but you nod anyway. What have you got to lose at this point? "Anything."

Emma reaches across the space separating you to rest her hand on the side of your face. "Once you have me naked and thoroughly sated like I know I will be if I let you touch me … will you finally kill me, Regina?"

You lean your head into her hand and press a kiss against the palm, mirroring her gesture from only minutes before. Then you shake your head once. "Will _you_?"

Emma's reply is to help you off the counter, steadying you as your feet hit the cold tile floor, and leading you to her bedroom. You make it as far as the doorframe before she's on you again, and you both start tearing at clothes between almost desperate kisses.

You need two more attempts to actually make it to the bed — the wall and a dresser happen to be more convenient along the way — but when you do, it's wonderful. And if she decides to kill you in your sleep after all … well, you'll consider it a good way to go.

**The End**


	18. Road Trip: Lost

**AU Challenge**

**Day 18: Road Trip**

**Summary: Emma and Regina are on their way to a wedding and get lost along the way. Or maybe they are found?**

**A/N: Road trip AU that also hits a few tropes for Swan Queen week (bed sharing, best friends in love, mistaken for a couple).**

**Disclaimer: Not my characters.**

* * *

"We're lost, aren't we?" Regina asked sardonically, looking out into the dusk and the rain that was now coming down in sheets around their car.

Emma didn't feel like the comment needed a reply, but she did shoot Regina a dirty look. The problem was Regina was right, and they both knew it.

"I should have driven," Regina grumbled. "Why don't you let me drive the rest of the way?"

"In those heels?" Emma snorted. "Besides, you hate my car, and you can't drive stick to save your life."

"My shoes are absolutely fine," Regina huffed, raising a foot to lovingly stare at her 5-inch impeccable Louboutins.

"Yeah, if you want to get laid," Emma murmured under breath. "Not for driving," she added slightly louder.

"If you won't let me drive, then kindly make sure that we get there some time this century." Regina stared out the window. "The wedding is to—"

"Tomorrow, I know." They'd had this talk a few times already, and it wasn't as if Emma was likely to forget that fact. But she forgave her friend because she could hear a small tremor in her voice. "Who the hell has a wedding in the middle of fucking nowhere anyway?" she groused, trying to shift the attention away from her navigation skills. "Idiots."

"You've done nothing but complain about this wedding for the past five hours." Regina's comment was mild. "Why did you even decide to go? You absolutely abhor Robin, and you don't like my sister much better either."

Emma slowed down as her bug approached a sharp bend in the road, made it even more dangerous by the rain and the growing darkness. "Because there was no chance in hell I was going to let you go to that wedding alone," she replied sincerely. "Even though I still don't know why _you're_ going. I mean, your ex is getting married to your sister, for crying in the night. How are you so calm about this?"

"Speaking of night," Regina said, pointing at the weather outside, pointedly ignoring Emma's question. "Do you think we're going to make it to that _idyllic hotel in the countryside_ tonight?"

There were audible quotation marks around the words but from the tone of her voice, Emma still couldn't tell what Regina wanted the answer to be, so she went with, "Depends."

"On?"

"On whether or not you want to."

"And here I thought it depended on you finding the way …" The comment was the teasing kind Emma had come to know and love from Regina, but this time the tone was acerbic. Yep, Regina was stressed all right.

"You do realize that the passenger is usually the navigator, right?" Emma tried to tease back, hoping they could skirt around the nerves and maybe get back to their normal banter.

"If you had a map that was legible, I would have been able to," Regina retorted testily. "Or better yet, a GPS, but _nooo_, you told me you got this."

Apparently, no banter for them tonight. Emma winced, but she had indeed promised to take care of everything. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "Is it really so bad to spend a day in the car with me? We haven't had much time to see each other lately."

Regina sighed and reached over to touch Emma's thigh in soft circles in apology, causing a tingle in the surrounding nerve endings. Emma bit back her moan, knowing that Regina didn't feel for her the way she wished and hoped in her dreams. Emma was so lost in the feeling against her thigh that she almost missed Regina's whispered, "You know it's not that …It's just that …"

"Yeah, I know." Emma looked around, squinting to make out a sign by the side of the road. "Look, it's getting pretty hard to drive and there's a hotel coming up ahead. Let's stop there and just get to Bumfuck Nowhere in time for the ceremony tomorrow." Emma could see from the corner of her eye that the idea was tempting her friend. "Come on, you don't want to see Robin and Zelena any sooner than you absolutely have to anyway," she coaxed.

"They're not the problem so much as my m—"

"Your mother, yeah." Emma shook herself. She and Cora Mills had never been on the best of terms, and she had a feeling that would never change, especially not if she knew about Emma's feelings for her daughter … ah well, no need to think about things that were never gonna happen, right? "Here's the thing, though," she grinned. "She'll be much too busy terrorizing the hotel staff tomorrow to give you hell for being late as long as I get you there." Cora Mills was going to ignore Emma anyway, no matter what.

At her words, Regina's hand pressed harder into Emma's thigh for a moment before slowly relaxing and allowing Emma to breathe once more, albeit it unsteadily. "You're right," she breathed. "I hope."

Emma returned her focus to finding the motel, missing the fond look on Regina's face and the speculation in her eyes as they moved to the place where her hand still rested on Emma's leg. Regina exhaled slowly, trying to release some of the tension she felt. It wasn't just this wedding — and she could have very well lived without having to see _that_ happening — or the ever-present stress of having to face her mother, who was an overbearing bitch on a good day.

No, it wasn't just that. This was, she had realized about an hour into the trip - when she had caught herself staring at the column of Emma's throat and imagined running her tongue along it - the first time since their college days that they were both single at the same time. There was no tangible barrier to stop her from being tempted, from dreaming the impossible dream. This was, in one word, dangerous.

They had kissed once, in college, both slightly tipsy after a party, and Regina emotional after Daniel had dumped her. Nothing had happened, at least nothing more intimate than a couple of kisses despite what Regina had wanted, since Emma had proven to be as chivalrous as she was charming, gently but firmly putting a stop to what they were doing and leaving, only to return a few days later filled with stories of a new boyfriend. But Regina could still remember every single second of the kisses, could remember the softness of Emma's lips, the taste of her chapstick, the mingled taste of beer and vodka cranberry, the burning feeling all over her body. It was the night she had realized that she was in love with her best friend, and that her friend didn't return her feelings.

She had searched for that same feeling since then, with lots of different men — as well as a few women Emma didn't know about — while watching Emma date man after man, trying to chase her own happiness. Neither of them ever mentioned the kisses, not once, and so they had settled into a close friendship that had been going strong for the past fifteen years. And she was happy, Regina mused, happy to have this gorgeous, vivacious woman in her life in whatever capacity, but she hoped she'd finally find someone else to love the way she loved Emma, someone who could love her back. And for that to happen she had to let go of Emma. She just didn't know if th—

Regina was torn from her thoughts by the bug's creaking hop over a speed bump that signaled the beginning of the hotel driveway, and Emma's mumbled, "Sorry."

"It's fine," Regina replied mildly.

Emma looked over at the new tone. "Calmed down a bit?" she asked softly, hoping not to destroy the detente.

"I'm always calm," Regina insisted but there was a smirk on her face that Emma could hear as well as see, even in the dark. "I would like to know, however, where you're taking me."

"You and me both," Emma stated, just as they turned around a corner of the small service road and the hotel came into view. "Oh," she breathed, "okay then …"

Regina could only hum in assent. They were in front of a large log building that was nestled into the forest. "Well, well," she breathed.

Unfortunately, there were also a large number of cars out front. "Let's hope it's not too full. I really didn't see much of anything else along this road."

Emma parked the bug as close to the door as she could, but that still wasn't that close. She braced herself for the rain outside before chancing a look back at Regina. "You coming?"

Together they walked into the large, cozy reception area, which was emptier than the mass of cars outside had led them to fear. Regina could see a restaurant area through one of the doors, and given how crowded that seemed to be, she hoped that all those people who had parked outside had come here for dining rather than sleeping. She imagined sitting across from Emma at one of the tables, enjoying a lovely dinner - a wonderfully crisp salad for her and a juicy steak for Emma no doubt - and a good bottle of red, the table lit by a few candles ...

Emma followed Regina's gaze, drawn by the smile on her face and wondered what went on in her friend's mind. Her stomach growled at the thought of food, and she could hear Regina snorting beside her, and saying something that sounded like, "Typical."

"What?"

"Nothing," Regina sighed.

An elderly woman cleared her throat behind them, and Emma and Regina whirled around. "Welcome to The Elk Lodge," the woman greeted them. "What can I do for you?"

"Hi," Emma said. "We got a little lost out there and wondered if you had a room for us?"

"Two rooms," Regina blurted, remembering her decision to put more distance between herself and Emma. Sharing a room would _not_ be conducive to that.

Emma raised a surprised eyebrow, but nodded reluctantly. "A couple of rooms for us."

The older woman watched the interaction with keen eyes. "There's no need to pretend here," she muttered. "We're pretty tolerant around here. In any case, you're out of luck, we're completely booked."

"Oh." Emma stared out the window and into the pouring rain.

"Is there another hotel somewhere close?" Regina asked, her voice tinged with disappointment.

"Not really, no," the woman replied. "However ... I might have something for you ..."

"Okay?" Emma asked. "You got a bathtub somewhere we can curl up in?" She grinned at Regina, who stared out the window, looking lost in her thoughts. Emma wondered if she was even listening.

"Not exactly," the woman told Emma with a grin of her own, "but I have a trailer out back that's all set up. It's not the honeymoon suite, but it's quite romantic, and ..." she wiggled her eyebrows behind her frameless glasses. "You'd be all alone out there, far away from all the other guests. If you want, I could have some dinner and a bottle of wine brought down for you, too, for a nice, roman-"

"We'll take it," Emma interrupted, not even checking with Regina.

"Lovely," the older woman said. "I'm Granny, by the way." She handed Emma a set of keys. "The good thing is that you can actually take your car down there and don't have to run though the rain. Just drive around the right side of the main lodge and follow the path. The trail's a little rough but you can't miss it. The trailer is right by the lake. Very romantic."

Emma took the keys but felt it necessary to say something. "We're not ... I mean, the romance is probably lost on us ... we aren't ..." Her eyes went to Regina who was now busy studying the tourist information flyers on a shelf nearby. "We're just friends."

Granny looked from Emma to Regina and back, giving Emma a shrewd look. "You sure about that, girl?" she asked quietly. When Emma nodded, Granny patted her hand. "But it's not what you want, is it? And just looking at the way she looks at you when you're not paying attention, I'd say it's not what she wants either." She leaned in even closer. "Maybe you should make use of the romantic setting after all."

Emma's eyes went back to Regina with a soft sigh. "I don't think I stand a chance."

"You'll never know unless you try," Granny replied easily. "I'll have dinner brought over for you in twenty minutes or so. You a meat kind of girl?" Emma nodded. "Salad for her, I bet." Another nod. "I'll put something together. Don't worry, she'll enjoy it."

Emma nodded with a hopeless shrug, not entirely certain Granny was talking just about dinner. "Thank you."

Regina followed Emma outside with a few quick steps. "Where are we going?"

Emma stopped just inside the doorway where they could keep dry. "Didn't you hear what Granny said?"

"Granny?"

"Where exactly _were_ you just now?" Emma shook her head. "The place is packed but she offered us a trailer by the lake."

"A _trailer_?" Regina gaped at Emma. "When did I miss that? Do I look like I'm going to sleep in a trailer?"

"It's better than sleeping in my bug," Emma pointed out. "Remember that one time we tried that?" She ran for the car. "Come on!"

Regina ran after her and got into the car as fast as she could. "Of course I remember that disaster," she grumbled. "You and your stupid ideas. Living in your car because your roommate threw you out and pretending it was perfectly all right," she continued as Emma started the car and followed Granny's directions around the lodge. "Only you could think having a sleepover in a car was a good idea."

"Is that why you forced me to move in with you?" Emma asked. "Because you didn't want to come visit me in my car?"

Regina was quiet for a moment. She'd asked Emma to move in with her against her mother's command to the contrary but with her father's blessing — and he'd been the one whose name was on the title. She'd done it to save her from being homeless, of course, but also because she wanted Emma close. But she was not about to admit that. "Well, living in a car was unsustainable."

"Probably," Emma conceded. "Here we are."

_Here_ proved to be a vintage Airstream travel trailer, gleaming even in the miserable weather. There were lights strung along the roof, lighting the way, and it even had flower pots on the small windows. "Well," Regina murmured. "It certainly looks … quaint."

Emma stopped the car as close to the trailer as she could, then got out and ran for the door to open it for Regina who grabbed their bags from the back seat and quickly followed her. The inside was sparkly clean, the bed freshly made up, and everything smelled of the forest rain outside. Emma walked around curiously, opening doors and checking out the space. "Look, there's even a small bathroom in here," she said happily. "No outhouse for us."

Regina made a non-committal noise as she surveyed the small but cozy trailer. "There's only one bed," she murmured. A small one at that, she noticed. That was going to be a problem.

"Yeah, I figured," Emma replied from directly behind her. "You know, it being a trailer and all that. Shouldn't be a problem, right?" she added. "I mean, it's not like we haven't shared a bed before."

Regina swallowed at her friend's closeness as well as the image of the two of them sleeping together in this bed. Or _not_ sleeping. "You can have the bed," she rasped. "I'll sleep on that bench over there." She pointed to the small sitting area on the opposite side of the trailer, and pressed by Emma to get away from her.

"What the hell, Regina?" Emma stopped her with a hand on her arm. She'd finally had enough of this strange behavior. "Would you mind telling me what's going on with you today?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Regina snarled, forcefully wrenching herself from Emma's light grasp.

"Bullshit." Emma let out a frustrated breath. "I know you, Regina. I know when you're lying." She ran a hand through her wet hair. "Did I do something? I'm sorry we didn't make it all the way there tonight but I thought you wouldn't mind … And I thought it would be nice to talk like we used to, you know ... We haven't actually spent any time together since I dumped Killian."

"I was busy," came Regina's quiet reply, but she didn't move further away.

"We're always busy," Emma pointed out. "That never stopped us from seeing each other, so I'm thinking something's up."

A knock on the door saved Regina from having to say anything else. Emma opened the door to find a young man in a waitstaff uniform, umbrella in one hand, a large basket in the other. "Granny says to enjoy your evening," he grinned as he handed Emma the food. "I'm also supposed to tell you _carpe diem_, whatever that means." With that, he dashed away from the trailer, leaving the two women to their evening.

Emma set out their food and pulled the bottle of wine from the basket, a merlot that she knew Regina would like.

"What is this?" Regina asked.

"Granny sent food," Emma explained the obvious as she pulled two glasses from a cabinet and sat down at the table. "Come on, enjoy your salad."

Regina sat down across from Emma and lifted the little dome that covered her salad, which looked perfect, even to her discerning eye. She took a sip of the wine, also perfect, then watched as Emma pulled a couple of candles from the basket and lit them, creating a soft, romantic ambience, which Regina registered with a raised eyebrow.

"Were you serious about not sharing the bed?" Emma asked before moaning indecently around her first bite of what was possibly the best burger she had ever tasted.

Regina's mouth went dry at the sound. "What did that boy mean … about seizing the day?" she decided to answer the question with one of her own.

"It was nothing," Emma mumbled around another bite of her burger. "Just a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding?"

Emma blushed. "Granny thought … well, she assumed …"

"Assumed what?"

"Thatwe'reacouple," Emma muttered, expecting Regina to laugh or scoff at the thought and not really wanting to hear either reaction.

"Huh," came the unexpectedly calm reaction. "And what did you tell her?" Regina leaned forward, extremely interested in Emma's answer. Maybe … maybe there was a chance that she wasn't the only one who dreamed of more. That _would_ explain the _carpe diem_ comment …

_Carpe diem, _Emma repeated in her head, _carpediemcarpediemcarpediem. _"I told her we're not …," she finally said softly, looking straight into Regina's eyes, which allowed her to see the fleeting look of disappointment on her friend's face. Maybe Granny had been onto something. Maybe she could see what Emma hadn't been able to after all those years of pining for her friend.

"Oh," Regina breathed. "Well … that's true, of course." And yet it sounded so wrong.

Emma reached out and put her hand over Regina's. "Did you know that this is the first time that we're both single at the same time?"

Regina blinked at the non-sequitur. "The thought did cross my mind." She wondered where Emma was going with this.

Emma got up and rounded the table, pulling Regina from her seat as she went. "Which means I can finally do this," she whispered before cupping Regina's face in her hands and pulling her closer until their lips _almost_ touched.

When Emma stopped with only a fraction of an inch between them, Regina growled low in her throat. "Carpe diem, Emma, or I will—"

The rest of her threat was swallowed by Emma's lips, pressing against Regina's with all the sweetness and none of the tipsy sloppiness of their first kiss so many years ago. Regina moaned into the kiss and Emma echoed the sound — or maybe it was the other way around — as they both moved simultaneously to deepen the kiss, tilting their heads just right, moving in perfect sync as if they'd done it a million times before.

"Jesus," Emma moaned, pulling away to look into Regina's eyes. "I should never have stopped doing that."

"I should never have allowed you to stop doing that," Regina retorted, going back for another kiss.

"Why did you?" Emma asked, biting her lower lip.

Regina groaned at the sight. "You ran."

"You were drunk."

"I wasn't," Regina replied. "Not really." Her eyes roamed Emma's face before firmly setting on the sea-green eyes. "I was in love with you. When you ran, I realized you didn't share my feelings."

"I was so in love with you and it scared the shit out of me," Emma whispered hoarsely. "Still am … and it kinda still does."

"But all those men you've dated …"

"Trying to forget you," Emma shrugged. "You never mentioned the kiss again, and I thought you regretted it, so I tried to find my happiness elsewhere." Emma pushed a lock of hair behind one of Regina's ears. "But I could never let go of you."

Regina pressed a kiss against the palm cradling her face. "I was doing the same thing, tying to get over you. I promised myself in the car today that I had to really let go of the thought of you … of _us_, if I ever wanted a chance to find some semblance of happiness with somebody else."

"We're idiots," Emma concluded. "We could have been happy all those years …"

"There are more years to come," Regina whispered, unusually optimistic. "Are we going to spend them talking or are we—"

Again, her words were cut off by a pair of very insistent lips, and Regina didn't resist. At all. Not the kisses, and not the things that followed, which turned her into a needy, quivering mess, gasping for breath, holding onto Emma for dear life, screaming her name into the night.

And then she returned the favor. Several times.

It was a good thing that the trailer was far enough away from the main lodge that the only things they disturbed with their screams were a pair of squirrels in a nearby tree.

Granny pointed them to their destination the next day — just a few miles down the road actually — before sending them on their way with a knowing smile and a reminder that the Elk Lodge did weddings as well, and that they could have that trailer whenever they wanted it.

Regina squeezed Emma's hand at that and smiled at Granny before they headed off to her sister's wedding.

Which was an unmitigated disaster, just like expected, but Regina didn't care because she spent most of the day hiding out in the bathroom with Emma.

Six months later, Granny got a call about a wedding and a honeymoon in a trailer by a lake.

**The End**


	19. Fantasy: The Vagaries of Dragon-Hunting

**AU Challenge / Challenge on Infinite Earths**

**Part 19: Fantasy**

**Summary: When Ser Emma Swan meets a mysterious woman named Regina while on a quest to hunt a notorious dragon, it changes more than just her will to finish her quest. Because how can you hunt a dragon when you realize that the woman you're so fascinated with is a dragon? And a witch with a few secrets. Not to mention two werewolves as her family ...**

**And that's even before the real problems start.**

**Disclaimer: Not my characters, apart from the few that are mine.**

**A/N: This took a little longer to post, mainly because it took a little longer to write. :)**

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**The Vagaries of Dragon-Hunting**

Ser Emma, the White Knight, wiped the four harpies' blood from her blade with a look of disgust before sheathing the sword and looking back at the villagers surrounding her. She was tired, exhausted both physically and mentally after months of travel, but she was almost at the end of the known world, and there weren't many more places where she could go on her quest. She looked towards the looming mountain and the dark castle that was built into the rock face halfway up the jagged mountainside.

"Who lives up there?" she asked one of the villagers, out of curiosity more than an actual need to know. Her quarry did not live in castles or any kind of building.

The man looked at her with wide eyes which flicked between her and the dead harpies in the bloody snow. Emma sighed. _Great._

"Nobody lives there," an old woman answered her question, her voice heavily accented, reminding Emma once more that up here in the north most people did not speak the language common to her homeland. The woman's tone was guarded and offensively unfriendly, given that Emma had just slain a group of harpies that had been attacking the village paddock.

"Nobody?"

"Nobody," came the confirmation.

Emma knew the woman was lying but she couldn't figure out why. She looked around the other people who were now coming closer, encircling her, and they all seemed to nod in rhythm with the old woman's nodding. "Well then," Emma sighed. "Maybe you could help me find what I'm looking for instead."

The woman gave her a suspicious look but nodded vaguely. "We will try."

"Thank you." Emma pulled the map from her armor and unfolded it carefully. "I'm looking for a dragon," she began with enthusiasm, and the hope that maybe here she would be able to find the answers she was looking for. "Its name is Yolbriidur. Have you seen it around here?"

"Why are you looking for this … dragon?" the old woman asked before saying something in a language Emma couldn't understand to the other villagers. Their faces went grim.

"Queen Snow of the White Lands has sent me to vanquish it," Emma replied.

"Vanquish?"

"To kill it," Emma confirmed. She heard a gasp behind her that was cut off so fast that she wondered if it had been there at all.

"Others like you have come before, bearing that same crest on their shields." The woman's eyes narrowed. "There are no dragons here," she growled, but Emma could see some of the villagers looking towards the mountain before the old woman barked out some words in the foreign tongue. The villagers scattered and walked away.

"No dragons," the woman repeated. "The only dragons we have ever seen came from there, and that's where we sent the ones that came before you as well." She pointed in the direction where Emma had come from. "We thank you for your help, but you need to leave."

"Wait!" Emma exclaimed when the old woman turned to leave. "Why in all the seven realms would you protect a dragon?"

But the woman didn't hear her or ignored her; Emma assumed it was the latter. Shaking her head, she went back to her horse, storing the map in her gauntlet, and her sword under the saddle. She knew there was something going on here, knew that the villagers had been lying to her, but she had no idea why.

Her gaze went back to the castle halfway up the mountain as she got on her horse and steered it towards the one spot the villagers didn't want her to go. Well, her mother had always told her she was too stubborn for her own good, and there was always a chance that the information she was after could be found up there.

As she slowly made her way through the falling snow, her mind went to her reason for her presence in this remote corner of the world. Yolbriidur, the dragon she was hunting, was at the center of many a legend as well as the stories parents told to keep their children in line. Every year, the Queen sent out a knight willing to prove himself to try and find the dragon, and if possible to slay it.

None had ever come back successful, if they came back at all.

And now, in all her months of roaming the lands, those villagers had provided the first actual hint of _something_, a lead of sorts. Even if it was only by blatantly lying to her. Emma hoped that whoever lived in that castle would be able to point her in the right direction or provide help of some sort. If they couldn't or _wouldn't_, well, she hopefully would at least be offered dinner, a bath, and a bed before continuing her quest.

She made camp when she realized she wasn't going to make it up the mountain that night and settled down under the protection of a tall tree with a small fire and her meager dinner, the rest of the meat of a rabbit she had killed the night before. She heated up some water for tea, then settled down onto her furs and let her mind drift back home to her son and what adventures he might have had that day. She missed Henry fiercely, but life at her parents' court had become too stifling for Emma, especially once her mother had started dropping hints that it would be lovely if she were to find a nice prince to marry.

With Henry being kept busy for hours and hours every day with his education as the heir to the throne — Emma refused to even think about becoming queen one day, and had thrown herself into being a knight instead — leaving him for a few months seemed something they could both deal with. So Emma had asked the King and Queen for the honor of taking on the dragon quest, and her parents had agreed, albeit reluctantly. They had sent her off with a big ball and promises to keep Henry safe, and now, after months of roaming the lands, she had finally made it here to the far edges of the known world.

—-

It took Ser Emma most of the following day to make her way up the narrow, barely-there path up the snowy mountain. The sun was already beginning to set when she knocked on the heavy wooden door after taking a deep breath to guard herself against the unknown.

It took many long minutes of nothing until Emma could hear the faint sound of footsteps through the dark wood, and before long the door was pulled open by a young woman, a few years younger than Emma.

"Hello," the young woman greeted her with a wide smile. "I'm sorry it took so long … we don't often get visitors up here."

"Ruby!" came a sharp shout from somewhere deeper in the castle before Emma could even return the young woman's greeting. "I told you not to open that door!"

"It's all right, Granny," Ruby called over her shoulder, as she made room for Emma to enter the castle. "It's just a traveling knight."

"Good evening," Emma said with a slight bow. "Is there a barn where I could leave my horse?"

"Nah," Ruby grinned. "Just bring it with you. There's a room right here that can be used as a stable, and it's warm and dry."

Emma did as asked and began to settle her horse in a room just off to the side, which was indeed filled with straw. Hurried footsteps made her look up.

"What do you mean _just a traveling knight_, you silly girl?" an older woman asked while still bustling towards Ruby. "You know we can't have those here," she hissed. "You know what they're after."

Emma perked up at that but decided to step forward, so as not to risk her welcome for the night. "Good evening," she bowed to the older woman. "I am Ser Emma, First Knight of the Realm. I hail from the White Lands."

Ruby let out a small gasp — more of excitement than fear — but the older woman, Granny, gave her a hard look. "You can't stay here," she growled menacingly, even as Ruby dragged Emma further into the castle. "This is no place for you."

"But Granny—"

"No!" Granny barked, then sighed. "You know we can't ri—"

"Why don't you let me decide that?" a silky, throaty voice asked from inside the great hall. Granny scowled at Emma in response to the newcomer's words. "It's fine, Granny. I'm sure our guest is hungry and in need of some rest. She looks like she has been on the road for some time."

"Regina, we—"

"Granny," the voice got a little firmer. "I think we can offer a knight of the realm at least _some_ hospitality for the night, don't you agree?"

The look in her eyes made it clear that Granny better not disagree further. Emma's mouth twitched slightly as her brain was working hard at trying to put together all the puzzle pieces. The villagers and their lies, this dark castle halfway up the mountain, a grumpy old woman trying to keep her away, and a beautiful woman who ordered her to let her in regardless. A _gorgeous_ woman who had raked her eyes up and down Emma's body when she looked at her, leaving behind a feeling of utter warmth.

"I apologize for Granny," the beautiful woman rasped. "She's very protective." She called Ruby over with a wave of her hand, and in a second the young woman was there to take her cloak. "You have met Granny and Ruby," she said with a small smile. "My name is Regina, and this is our home, such as it is."

"My name is E-Emma, Ser Emma … Swan," Emma stammered, caught as she was staring into Regina's eyes, which she found both hauntingly beautiful and immensely distracting. She managed to pull herself together enough to stand up straight and press her gloved fist against the crest on her light armor. "I am a knight of the White Lands."

"Yes, I heard that." There was a fleeting look of sadness in Regina's eyes — or so Emma thought — but it was gone immediately, replaced by a smile. "You must tell me of your journey, and what brings you here, so far from the White Lands," Regina insisted. "But for now, welcome, Ser Emma … Ruby, would you show our guest where she can freshen up?" She turned back to Emma. "Will an hour be sufficient time for you to rest?"

"Perfect," Emma replied with a smile, wondering why every time Regina's eyes met hers she felt short of breath.

—-

Emma took her time washing the road grime off her body and getting dressed in her one relatively clean set of tight leather breeches and a white shirt that bore her parents' crest on a patch above her left breast, but her inner clock told her that she hadn't quite needed the allotted time. With her stomach growling, she set off to find her hostess and the dinner she was promised, although she wasn't sure which of the two she was looking forward to more.

She stopped halfway down the great stairs when she heard voices, one calm, one upset. On impulse, she decided to listen and carefully, silently moved further down the stairs.

"… sent her away, not invite her for dinner!"

"That would have not been very polite."

"I don't care about being polite," Granny growled. "I care about you."

"I'm _fine_."

"No, you're not," Granny replied bluntly. "You're getting weaker every day, and her presence here … she can't find out about … or you'll be dead sooner rather than later."

"We're all going to die at some point," Regina pointed out, remarkably calmly, Emma thought. She held her breath as she wondered what was wrong with her hostess. "I made my peace with that fact a long time ago and you need to accept it, too, my old friend."

"Excuse me while I don't." Granny sounded really upset, Emma thought. "And if that knight finds out you're a witch—"

Emma let out a breath as she took a half step back at that.

"Granny." A warning.

"… or even worse, that you're a drag—"

"Granny!" Regina exclaimed, finally getting the older woman to shut up. "We're no longer alone."

"Oh, no," Granny groaned. "I'm so … Oh, Maker's tits."

Emma took that as her cue to move forward and join the two women in the great hall. "I'm sorry," she apologized immediately. "I wasn't intending to listen—"

"Like hell you weren't, _Ser_ _Knight_," Granny whirled around, positively spitting the title, furious at Emma for eavesdropping. At the resulting glare from Regina, she took a few steps towards Emma, visibly trying to calm herself. "You can't take anything I said seriously," she pleaded. "I'm just an old woman, and I tend to ramble and rave … I'm quite mad, you know …"

"Granny, please," Regina kindly stopped her friend. "It's all right. I'm not in the mood to pretend I'm something I'm not. Or pretending I'm not something I am, to be more precise."

Emma saw the genuine love between these two people, and wondered if what she'd heard could actually be true. How could someone be a dragon and a beautiful woman at the same time? And a witch? All Emma had ever heard about magic was that it was done by old hags in dark corners, and that it was bad. It was frowned upon in the White Lands, and those who dabbled in it, usually did so in the shadows.

But if this woman was not only a witch but also a dragon, and maybe even the one she was hunting ... How was that possible? Emma had never heard of anything like it. "You're a dragon?" she asked, her knees slightly weak.

"I'm … Regina," her hostess replied quietly.

Granny slid between Emma and Regina, hands on her hips, in full protective mode. "Are you going to run and get your sword now, Ser Emma?" she snarled. "To get your own _heroic_ dragon kill?"

Emma's eyes never left Regina's. "Not before dinner," she said evenly. "Besides, I was sent to kill Yolbriidur, the formidable dragon … and I don't see a dragon here." _At least not in the form she had expected._ She paused. "But I would like to know where I can find it, and I came here in the hope that you could point me in the right direction."

"Away from here is the direction you're looking for," Granny said sternly. She studied Emma for a long moment, then her eyes slid to a point behind her with a curt nod. Emma turned around to find herself facing a huge black wolf. She turned back to Granny, who smiled at the wolf before meeting Emma's shocked eyes. "For now, however, ... let's eat."

When Emma turned back to the wolf, all she saw was Ruby standing there in her simple dress, a smile on her face. A rather wolfish smile. "You _all_ have magic," Emma breathed, in awe.

"Nope," Ruby grinned. "This is just my nature." With that she followed Granny to the table which was laid out simply but offered enough food to feed a small army.

Emma looked at Regina, whose expression was unreadable, but if she had to, Emma would swear there was a smile playing around her mouth.

—-

They talked about harmless things during dinner, mostly about Emma's journey and the things she had seen along the way. She told stories about trolls and chimeras, ogres and harpies while the others mostly listened. Emma's eyes went to Regina again and again, and every time, Emma had the feeling the other woman was _just_ looking away from her, mostly at her food or at the goblet of wine she was twirling gently in her hands.

After dinner, Emma's curiosity could no longer be contained. "I think that the villagers down on the plain knew something about my dragon … Yolbriidur," she began. "They tried to send me back the way I came."

"So how did you end up _here_?" Ruby asked bluntly, although not entirely unfriendly.

"I'm stubborn," Emma shrugged. "Especially when I get the feeling I'm being lied to."

Granny and Regina exchanged a quick glance, which Emma almost missed. _Just_ almost, however, and it got her senses tingling; but before she could think more about it, Ruby continued. "Why are you hunting that dragon anyway?"

Emma gaped at the question and looked from one woman to the next. "_Why_ am I hunting the dragon that's been a scourge to my homeland for as long as anyone can remember?" she asked. "Wouldn't you?"

Granny leaned forward in her seat, eyes bright and challenging. "Tell me, Ser Emma ..." Suddenly, the sneer that had been absent through dinner was back in her voice, Emma was surprised to hear. What had she said to warrant that? "Tell me … when was the last time Yolbriidur has even been _seen_ in the White Lands? And I don't mean tales told by drunk dwarves in run-down taverns or the stories that scare your children into decent behavior …"

"It's …" Emma opened her mouth to reply … but nothing more came out. When _was_ the last time anyone _reliable_ had actually seen the dragon? "Hunting that dragon has been a quest for the knights of the realm to prove their worth for decades," she finally whispered hesitantly, sounding lame to even her own ears. "I don't think anyone remembers when and how it started but I think it was when the dragon killed King Leopold."

"Yeah, Leopold the great dragonslayer," Granny snorted in disgust, and if they hadn't been sitting at a table in a castle, Emma was sure she would have spit after saying the name. "Cowardly bastard _he_ was."

"What ...?" Emma had never heard anyone talk about her grandfather like that before. All she had ever heard was Leopold the Brave, Leopold the Good, Leopold the Dragonslayer ...

Regina saw the expression on Emma's face. "It started when King Leopold went out to kill a dragon for sport," she explained softly. "He was a young man who wanted to prove his _greatness_." Her words were laced with sarcasm. "So he went to a powerful sorcerer and had his arrows infused with a curse guaranteed to kill dragons. Then he roamed the land looking for a dragon and finally found one with an injured wing. It couldn't fly away, and the great hero of course decided to kill it … kill a dragon that was hurt and weakened, and couldn't fight back. However, he still didn't dare get close enough to end the dragon's life quickly, with a sword like a warrior should. No, he shot one of his cursed arrows at it from a distance, ensuring that the dragon died a slow, painful death."

Regina clenched the fist around her goblet so hard the metal creaked in protest and her knuckles stood out starkly. "That dragon had a mate who swore vengeance on the king and his people for what he had done." She didn't mention that the mate also received a glancing blow of the curse when the king had tried to shoot it. It had been the great distance that had saved the mate, and it had been the king's undoing in the end.

"Yolbriidur," Emma surmised breathlessly, enthralled by the tale. "The mate … that was Yolbriidur, wasn't it?"

Regina nodded. "Although she didn't have a name back then, at least not one that was known or used to scare children."

At Emma's questioning look, Granny elaborated. "Dragons are most often named by the people who tell stories about them … or hunt them."

"But the dragon _did_ lay waste to the lands for years," Emma pointed out. At least that was what she had always been told. "Killed hundreds of people, if not more. Killed the king."

Granny and Ruby snorted in tandem. "Yeah, it's a wonder there are any people left to tell the tale," Ruby said with a snort.

"Are you saying that everything I've ever heard about that dragon is wrong?"

"What she's trying to say is that stories get embellished in the telling and retelling of them." Regina sounded calm and mild compared to her two companions. "Yes, the dragon killed people and burned down a few villages, and she did kill the king," she added. "But that was a lifetime ago. As far as anyone knows, Yolbriidur hasn't even been to the White Lands since she killed the king."

"Yolbriidur," Emma dragged out the name, tasting it on her tongue. "That means something like _beautiful fire curse_, doesn't it? And the tales tell of the dragon spreading fire over the land like a curse, and of it being quite beautiful, all gleaming black with fire red markings ..."

"Actually," Ruby cleared her throat, "what it means isbeauty, fire, _cursed_. There's a difference."

"Cursed?"

"Yes, cursed," Ruby repeated. "As in, victim of a curse."

"But I thought only the dragon that died was cursed ..."

"Maybe you thought wrong. Or not at all."

"Ruby, leave it be …" Regina tried to suppress the weary sigh that threatened to come out at the end of a long day. It had been a long time since she'd had to entertain guests, and she was beginning to feel it. That was the worst thing about the curse that was slowly killing her, and had been for the past however many years; it was sapping her strength, her energy, her very life-force, and it got progressively worse. _Not long now,_ she thought morosely, but shook it off when she noticed Granny's eyes on her.

"Maybe we should all retire for the night?" Granny mentioned casually.

Emma's eyes immediately went to Regina. She was loathe to end the night as she felt like she hadn't had her fill of watching her hostess or hearing her voice, and she wanted to hear more about the dragon. But she was only a guest and if she had to, she would say goodnight and leave.

"That's not necessary," Regina replied softly. "I'm fine, Granny."

She'd said the exact same thing when Emma had been eavesdropping earlier, and this time Emma could see why Granny was worried. Regina had lost some of her color, and there were rings under her eyes. Emma opened her mouth to say something to that effect when Regina's eyes met hers across the table, and her hostess shook her head almost imperceptibly.

"Why don't you and Ruby get some sleep," Regina went on, and it was more than a suggestion. "I'll keep our guest company for a little while still. I'd like to hear a few more news from ou—… _her_ homeland."

Ruby looked from Emma to Regina with a small smirk, then immediately stood to follow Regina's wish. "Come on, Granny," she motioned for her reluctant grandmother to follow suit. "Let's leave these two be." She wiggled her eyebrows, causing Emma to wonder if she was missing something.

Emma stood as Granny and Regina also got up from her seats, and watched as Regina bid them both goodnight with short but heartfelt hugs. Granny whispered something in her ear, which Regina answered with a sigh and a quick shake of her head; then Granny and Ruby left as Regina turned to Emma, goblet of wine in her hand. "Shall we go sit by the fire? There's a chill in the air." Regina pointed to a door at the other end of the hall, through which Emma could see a smaller room. She picked up her own wine and followed her hostess.

"So, what exactly are you?" Emma started once they were sharing a low settee in front of the fire in an attempt to hear more about Regina and learn about dragons at the same time. "A witch that can turn into a dragon? Or a dragon that can turn into a woman?"

Regina stared into the fire. "I … am both, I guess." She shrugged. "Dragon and woman, there is no difference. Much like a werewolf, I guess, with the difference that I have full control."

"Can you speak in dragon form?"

"I can," Regina nodded. "Although my voice is a little different."

"What Granny said … earlier," Emma started hesitantly. "About you dying … is that true?"

Regina nodded again. "I have been dying for a long time," she brushed away the concern on Emma's face. "There's a point where you get used to the feeling, to the pain ... and I've been staving it off as best I could by staying in human form as much as possible. Th curse mostly affects my dragon side, so when I stay human, it's not progressing as fast."

"Then why not stay human forever?"

Regina chuckled. "It's not quite as easy as that sounds, Ser Emma," she replied. "All of us who are dual beings have to transform every so often. It's the way things are. Granny and Ruby absolutely have to turn into their wolf form a few days every month, and I have to take my dragon form out for a flight. And frankly, it's not something I'd want to give up ... I'm a dragon as much as I am a woman."

"And Granny and Ruby?"

"They've been with me for many, many years. They're my oldest friends ... they have been taking care of me."

"Ruby can't have been helping you much," Emma mused aloud. "She's barely grown up."

Regina laughed lightly. "Rest assured, Ser Emma, Ruby has seen many more summers than you."

"How is that possible?"

"Have you not been paying attention?" Regina sipped from her wine. "My friends are werewolves. They age differently to humans."

"Werewolves?" _Yes, of course._ Emma let out a slow breath, wondering for the first time what she had gotten herself into here in the company of a dragon-witch and her two werewolves.

Regina read her perfectly. "Don't worry," she laughed lightly. "They haven't eaten any humans in a long time. They both prefer the taste of venison or wild boar."

"What about you?" Emma blurted.

Regina gave her a feral smile. "While I've enjoyed the taste of quite a few people in my life," she commented casually, "it has never been as food."

Emma blinked when the words registered in her brain, and she blushed furiously. "I'm happy to hear that," she croaked. She could feel heat racing through her body and felt wholly unprepared for the teasing.

Regina considered teasing her guest some more but decided against it when she caught the knight biting her lip and pressing her legs together. "Maybe I should let you get some rest now," she offered graciously. "We can talk more in the morning."

Emma nodded, still flushed, an ache between her thighs that had nothing to do with all the riding she'd done that day, and stood immediately. "Allow me to accompany you to your door, milady?"

Regina got up and took the knight's offered hand. "So chivalrous," she teased with a smile, unable to stop herself. There was just something about this knight she found very alluring.

Emma's blush darkened even further. "I am a knight, milady," she replied hoarsely. "It's what we do."

Regina extinguished the fire with a wave of her hand, then led them out of the room and up the stairs. At the end of a long hallway, quite a ways away from Emma's bedroom, she stopped in front of an ornate door. "Thank you, Ser Emma," she said softly. "I've enjoyed your company tonight."

"My pleasure," Emma murmured, suddenly unwilling to leave but seeing no excuse to linger.

Regina smiled at her lovely company, toying with the idea of simply dragging her into her bedchamber and having her way with her. She was certain that the knight would come willingly — happily even, judging from the way her eyes roamed from Regina's eyes to her lips and back — but in the end she simply leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to the young knight's mouth. She was not prepared for the jolt she felt when their lips touched. "Good dreams," she whispered shakily, then hastened through her door and into the refuge of her room.

Emma stood stock-still, fingers pressed against her lips, which still tingled and spread warmth through her body. Finally, with a soft sigh, she made her way back to her own room, very sure that all her dreams that night would revolve around this mysterious woman.

—-

Regina leaned back against her door, listening to Emma's footsteps down the hallway, biting her lower lip. A minute ago, she had been exhausted, depleted, but now, after just that one brief kiss, she felt some of her energy returning, and with it came the feeling of restlessness.

Suddenly she needed to be out there, flying. Hunting.

She hadn't been out flying in a while to conserve her strength but now it was all she could think of. She ripped off her clothes and tossed them in the direction of her bed, then walked out onto her large balcony. The air was cold on her naked body but she didn't feel it for long as her body instantly reacted to her desire to fly and began to change into her dragon form.

Seconds later, she spread her huge wings and launched herself into the air with a roar of joy.

—-

Emma had a hard time untying her boots, her mind still occupied more than it should be with the brief, chaste kiss, or — more precisely — with all the other things she imagined their mouths could be doing, sliding together as well as against skin all over their bodies. She felt the familiar feeling of a flush heating up her body, but it didn't even surprise her this time. The presence of Regina had her blushing almost constantly, so why would the thought of her be any different? Especially if it were those kinds of thoughts?

For a second Emma wondered if her beautiful hostess had put her under a spell. She had magic, after all, and it was probably possible. Maybe everyone here was under her thrall — Ruby, Granny, even the villagers — but that would take an inordinate amount of energy, she assumed. Energy Regina didn't have to spare if Granny's worry had been genuine, and there was no reason to doubt that. The old woman clearly loved Regina like a daughter, and she had the look of someone who was preparing for a great loss while trying not to show it.

A roar tore Emma from her thoughts, and she hobbled to the large window, one boot in hand, the other hanging half off her foot. What she saw stopped her breath.

A dragon.

—-

Regina soared on the winds coming up the mountain as she circled her castle, then flew in a wide circle towards the plain, heading straight for the village, her keen eyes scanning the ground for anything that moved.

There. A group of deer, grazing by the forest's edge. With a feral grin, she swooped down towards the group, which tried to scatter in vain. The dragon was too fast for them, as she caught two deer in each of her enormous talons, killing them quickly, almost mercifully so. Then, as quickly as she had descended, she rose again and headed for the village once more.

The village was quiet this time of night, only a few stragglers walking from one place to the next, mostly from the tavern to their homes. When the dragon closed in on the village, they could hear the whooshing sound the wings made on the wind, but none of them ran.

Most of them even smiled.

Regina sat down gently in front of the village elder's house, dropping her cargo in a neat little pile before knocking on the door with the barest of taps of a single claw. The village elder — a woman with silvery hair in ornate braids whom Emma would have recognized easily — opened the door with a wide smile. Regina bared her teeth in an answering smile. "I'm sorry I was gone so long," she greeted in the language of the North, her dragon voice deep and throaty but still recognizably female, and the inflection still very much Regina.

"Thank you for thinking of us, Yolbriidur," the village elder replied. She called over two men and motioned for them to take care of the meat delivery. "I sent two women up to the castle earlier ... another one of those knights showed up here on a mighty quest for your hide." Her words were rife with sarcasm and affection for the dragon standing before her. "Astrid and Inga are on their way to warn you and bring you some provisions. They jumped at the opportunity to see Granny and Ruby to gossip."

"Thank you," Regina huffed. "That knight arrived at the castle earlier tonight. For now I don't think she means to kill me."

"Does she know who you are?"

"Not yet, although she knows I'm a dragon." Regina took a few steps back from the house before rising again and taking a slow flight over the village. As she got to the large lake she saw that it was frozen over, and it only took a few breaths of fire to thaw off the clear cover and provide access to the fish inside again.

On the way back to the castle, she could feel her wings getting weaker, the exhaustion returning. Still, she stopped when she spotted the two village women resting by a fire at the foot of the mountain, and swooped down to offer them a ride. They settled into her talons gratefully, and enjoyed the view on their much accelerated journey to the castle.

Regina fell into her bed a short time later, tired to the bone, a smile on her face.

—-

_They were moving together on a large bed. In her mind's eye she could see Regina above her, pushing herself against her, always keeping their bodies pressed together, her face hauntingly beautiful. Emma could see her own hands as they clung to shoulders, ran down a strong back, curled into dark, silky hair. They kissed, passionately, hungrily, and moved together with an intensity Emma hadn't known before. Regina was fire, Regina was air, Regina was pleasure, her hands roaming Emma's body freely, increasing her arousal immensely. Regina's hand pressed against her as knees pushed apart Emma's thighs, and then Regina was where Emma wanted her, needed her, two fingers pushing inside her, tongue and lips teasing the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. Emma groaned and arched her back, hands in dark hair pressing Regina into her as she gave herself over to the intensity of the feeling and tumbled over the edge, coming undone quickly._

_Regina looked up at her from her position between Emma's legs with a soft smile and glinting eyes before curling her fingers inside Emma and pushing her towards another orgasm that had her screaming._

Emma awoke with a start at the knocking on her door. "Emma!"

"What?" The knight croaked, still lost in her dream, her own fingers still pressed to her soaked center. Oh Maker, what a dream that had been.

"Are you all right?" It was Ruby's voice she could her through the door. "You were screaming."

"Ye-Yeah." Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I'm fine."

The door opened wide enough to allow Ruby's head to poke through. Hastily, Emma removed her hand from between her thighs and tried to dry them on the bed covers as surreptitiously as she could.

Apparently, that wasn't enough as Ruby suddenly laughed and gave her a roguish smirk. "Okay, so that wasn't a _bad_ scream," she said. "I'll … erm, I'll leave you to it then. Just wanted to let you know that we're having breakfast in the kitchen."

"I have no idea what you mean," Emma mumbled defensively, thoroughly embarrassed at having been caught.

Ruby snorted. "You're forgetting that I'm a wolf, Ser Knight," she said, tapping her nose. "My sense of smell is _really_ good."

Emma huffed and jumped out of bed, glad she'd worn her long woolen breeches and a shirt for the night. "I'm coming," she told Ruby. "For food, I mean … downstairs." But the door had already closed again, and all she could hear was Ruby's laughter moving down the hallway.

"Maker's tits, what a way to wake up," Emma muttered under her breath, then got ready as quickly as she could just as her stomach reminded her that food sounded really good right about now.

Then all her movement stopped when she remembered that she would have to look Regina in the eye, and had no idea how to do that without giving away the fact that she had seen her fly around in her dragon form.

Or worse, her less than chaste thoughts and vividly erotic dream.

—-

Despite her embarrassment Emma put on a smile as she followed the voices to the kitchen, and her smile turned genuinely bright when she entered the warm room. Whatever else these three women were, they also were a loving family, and it showed in the way they were teasing each other and caring for each other. They were sitting at a rough wooden table, which was covered in bread and cheese, but also several earthen jugs and bowls of oats and different nuts, and it fit the generally relaxed and unceremonious style of this household perfectly. It was very different from the castle Emma had grown up in, and she enjoyed it immensely. There was no constant need for posturing here, no courtly behavior at all times. Just love, and living life as best these women could.

To Emma's surprise there were two women standing at the hearth whom she recognized from the village, and she inclined her head in greeting despite the scowl she received from them.

"I see you've met our friends from Starkhaven," Granny called out while Ruby couldn't seem to help herself and gave her another teasing smirk.

Regina spoke to the village women in a language Emma didn't understand, and they nodded, both to Regina and then to Emma in turn. "The villagers provide us with victuals we don't have up here," Regina explained. "They came a few days early to inform us of your presence like they do whenever one of you knights show up in this part of the world to hunt your dragon."

"You're the first in three years who came this far north," Granny said. "In years when none of you show up we hope that maybe finally Snow and Charming got it in their thick skulls that this dragon hunt is useless," Granny grumbled into her porridge. "And then another one of you knightly types shows up here ..."

Emma stared at the three women. "You knew my ... the king and queen?"

"What makes you think that?" Granny replied.

"The king hasn't used that name in many years," Emma pointed out. "It wasn't deemed kingly enough or something like that."

Ruby snorted. "Then maybe the queen shouldn't have married a shepherd."

Emma gaped. "You really _do_ know them." The fact that her father had been a peasant once was not commonly known among their own people, and even less outside the borders of the White Lands. "Who _are_ you?"

"I was once a good friend to Snow," Ruby admitted. "But I left the White Lands with my family shortly after the princess was born." Ruby stopped, her eyes widening almost comically as she put the pieces together. "You're _her_, aren't you?"

"What are you talking about, Child?" Granny asked, but Regina looked on thoughtfully as if she knew what Ruby meant.

"Ser _Emma_ Swan," Ruby whispered. "Snow's daughter was named Emma … and the age fits, too. You're the _princess_."

Granny dropped her spoon. "Of course ... the only way Snow would allow a female knight at her court …"

"Yeah, well, she wasn't happy." Emma winced at the memory of that particular conversation with her mother. The many, many conversations, in fact. "But the truth is that I am a far better knight than I am a princess."

If Emma thought admitting to being the princess of the White Lands would change anything, she was very wrong. All she got was nods from Ruby and Granny, and a smile from Regina, and then the conversation went back to other things, flowing from one topic to the next seamlessly, like a beautiful stream winding its way through a meadow in spring.

Emma couldn't remember feeling this content in a long, long time. The only thing that was missing was Henry.

And maybe a few more kisses from the woman smiling at her from across the table.

—-

The following days went much the same as this first one. Emma woke up uncomfortably aroused from dreams of Regina and went to breakfast trying not to blush or show her increasing feelings.

After breakfast, Ruby and Granny went about their work — whatever that was, Emma couldn't figure out — while Regina went into the castle's library. Emma either roamed the castle or the woods surrounding it, with or without her horse, or — which was much more often — she sat on the window sill in the library, her eyes fixed on Regina until the witch pretended to be mad at her for the interruption, tossed away her papers, and joined Emma to talk.

And if Emma was really lucky, there were kisses as well as talking. Each kiss was exhilarating, no matter how chaste. Things were developing slowly, both holding back, but over the course of a few days, the kisses turned more intense, deeper, until they were almost bringing Emma to her knees.

They were also bringing color and energy back to Regina with every touch of Emma's lips, which meant that invariably Regina ended the day far more energized than she started it. She knew it was due to Emma but what she hadn't been able to figure out was why her touch seemed to affect her so. And the more intense their kisses became, the more energy they gave Regina, until she was almost feeling like her old self. It was only temporary, which was why she never mentioned it to either Ruby or Granny, but she was determined to enjoy the extra time that was given to her.

The one thing Regina and Emma didn't do was talk about dragons, or discuss other things of importance. As if by a common decision, the words they exchanged revolved around Emma's life as a knight or the land and people around the castle. Regina even tried to teach Emma a few words of the local language, but Emma was usually too focused on the movement of Regina's lips to learn much.

The days spent at the castle were a welcome respite for Emma, one which she hadn't known she wanted or needed during her time of traveling. She enjoyed herself immensely, enjoyed the company, enjoyed the feelings that were growing inside of her, feelings for the complex witch she spent most of her waking hours with.

Not to mention her dreams, which were getting more and more intense the closer she got to Regina, especially since every evening ended with Regina taking her to her door and spending a good, long time saying good night without saying a single word.

Hunting her dragon was the furthest thing from Emma's mind, especially since most night's now included flight shows that Emma watched from the window of her room without ever mentioning them to Regina. The more she watched the dragon soar around the castle, the more she got the niggling feeling that she might not want to continue her hunt for Yolbriidur because it might be someone she liked.

In fact, as soon as she got home she would tell her parents that the quest was over, the dragon killed, the deed done. She would have to figure out a way to prove the kill, but she hoped Regina would have some idea for that.

If she had to leave here — and with every day spent here she wanted to leave less and less, the only thing pulling her away being her son — she could at least make sure that Regina would live out her life in peace.

—-

About a week into her visit, Emma woke up refreshed but also feeling flushed, and it took a moment for her to register the fact that her hand was buried between her thighs, _again,_ fingers unconsciously stroking her wet flesh to the remnants of another dream of Regina. This time, she continued touching herself, not wanting to lose the feeling of being close to the woman she was falling for, and it only took a very short time for her body to tense and come undone in a wave of pleasure.

If only Regina had been the one to touch her …

Maybe one day. Emma smiled as she jumped out of bed and ran into the bath chamber next door, the stone floor cold against her naked feet. She quickly washed herself, then got dressed for the day, finding herself looking forward to spending yet another day with the three women who lived in this castle.

She still hadn't found a way of saying goodbye, but she knew she had to leave soon. She was missing Henry, and he was probably missing her too, no matter how much his tutors kept him occupied.

—-

Breakfast was as informal as ever but the thought that she had to leave soon dampened Emma's mood. She picked at her food, lost in thoughts of Henry and having to go home. Oh, how she wished she could just whisk him here.

Emma tuned out the conversation going on around her. Now that her thoughts had gone to Henry, she couldn't shake them off, and the pain of missing him came back with a vengeance, forcefully pressing the air from her lungs.

"Are you all right, dear?" Regina's voice pulled her back from the brink of tears.

Emma swallowed hard and cleared her throat. She was a knight of the realm, she would not cry. "I'm fine," she rasped. "I was just reminded of something." She saw Regina's curious and concerned gaze and paused, then decided to finally be completely open. "I was just thinking of my son," she said softly.

"You have son?" Ruby blurted.

"You must miss him …" Regina commented softly, her eyes glued to Emma's.

"Terribly." The word escaped Emma's mouth before she could hold it back. "I've never been away from him for so long …"

"How old is he?" Granny asked.

"He had his tenth birthday the week before I left," Emma said with a small smile as she remembered that day. They had spent it in the woods surrounding the castle before her parents had thrown a ball in his honor, which he was barely allowed to attend due to his young age. He would have hated it anyway.

Regina's eyebrows went up at the information but she refrained from making a comment at how very young Emma must have been when she had him. "Is he with his … father?" she asked instead. Her forehead was creased in a frown.

"No, no …," Emma immediately shook her head and reached out to touch Regina's arm. "Henry's father died before he was even born," she assured her. "He's with my parents … well, his tutors mostly. My parents thought it best not to interrupt his education but he would have loved to come on an adventure no matter how much he enjoys his schooling. He's a very bright boy."

Regina saw the pain of separation on Emma's face, saw the love she had for her son, and before she could think about what she was doing, her mouth opened. "Would you like to see him?"

"Regina, no!" Granny jumped in before Emma could fully comprehend Regina's question. "Remember that you—"

"It's fine," Regina assured her calmly. "_I'm_ fine."

"But you know the magic is—"

"Granny, please." Regina's voice was quiet but very firm. "It's perfectly all right, I think I can spare a little magic for this."

She knew she could, especially if Emma was touching her in some way. Still, it would be quite an extravagant expenditure of magic, and she wondered what it was about the younger woman that made her want to risk it. Regina spared a smile for herself — she knew what it was; her feelings for the young knight that had been growing in leaps and bounds over the past week. Feelings she knew were never going to go anywhere, with Emma being drawn back to her home and son, and Regina … well, as soon as Emma was gone, she would once more descend towards death.

Regina turned back to Emma. "So, would you like to see your son?"

Emma realized that this offer was maybe not in Regina's best interest — there was no doubt when Granny had reacted the way she had and Ruby's face had clouded over — but she was also selfish enough and missing Henry enough to nod fervently. "I don't know how that might be possible," she said, "but it would mean a lot." She spared a glance at Granny and Ruby who wore matching scowls. "If it's really not too much to ask."

"Nonsense," Regina brushed off the concern with a smile. "Besides, you didn't ask … I offered."

At that, Granny shook her head in dismay while Ruby smiled softly at the look on Regina's face. Regina didn't miss either look, but she also caught the way the corners of Granny's mouth turned up slightly at the beautiful, beaming smile Emma sent Regina.

—-

Regina led them upstairs into a large room, which was empty apart from a large mirror standing against the far wall covered by a red, velvety piece of cloth.

"I'm going to use this to show you your son," Regina explained as they neared the mirror. "Unfortunately, you will only be able to see him, not talk to him."

Emma nodded. Her eyes were wet at the thought of seeing him. As much as she would have loved to talk to him, to hold him, seeing him was already going to be a miracle. "Do you need me to do anything?"

"All you need to do is focus all your thoughts on who you want to see," Regina replied with a soft smile. Being able to do this for Emma made her inexplicably happy. "I will do the rest."

"The magic?"

Regina nodded. "I don't know how long I'll be able to keep the connection going," she stated with regret. "It would be easier if …"

"If what?" Emma asked immediately.

"If you held onto me," Regina replied. "My hand, my arm … some part of me. It would help me focus … it would make focusing on your son easier." And possibly not drain her as much.

"Henry," Emma reminded her. "His name is Henry."

Regina's eyes met hers. "Henry." It was a whisper. "It's a beautiful name. My father was also named Henry."

"Oh." Emma smiled softly. "I have no idea why I gave Henry his name … it just felt right."

"My father was a very special man," Regina said. "If the name felt right for your son, maybe it's because he's a very special boy."

"Oh, he is," Emma instantly insisted. "Kind, loving, bright." He would fit in right here, she thought, so much more than at the White castle.

"Shall we?" Regina asked. At Emma's impatient nod, she pulled off the mirror's covering, coughing a little as the dust flew up. Then she came to stand in front of it, about three feet away from the glass, and held out her hand to Emma. "Join me."

Granny and Ruby, who had insisted on being there, watched as Emma took Regina's hand without a second's hesitation, intertwining their fingers and caressing the back of her hand with her thumb. They saw Regina's magic flare up at the touch, saw the way sparks surrounded their joined hands, and turned to look at each other, mouths agape.

"Did that really just happen?" Ruby whispered. "What have we missed?"

Granny could only nod. She took a step forward to talk to Regina, but Ruby held her grandmother back. "Let them figure it out," she said quietly.

Granny took a step back and returned to watching silently.

Regina held one hand out to the mirror, whispering words under her breath that Emma couldn't understand. Both their eyes were fixed on the mirror's surface, Regina's in concentration, Emma's in burning need.

It only took a few seconds for a light purple mist to cover the surface, and when it cleared, a room in a faraway castle was revealed.

But it wasn't the sight Emma had wanted to see, and her breath caught in her throat at the scene she was witnessing. "Henry," she breathed as her knees became wobbly.

Her son was lying in his bed, looking pale and sick, his brow covered in a sheen of sweat. His face had lost all color and had turned almost gray. There were people around the bed — Emma could see her parents and Doc, the dwarf that served as the family physician — and they all looked extremely worried.

"Henry," Emma repeated in a pained whisper.

Regina was equally shocked by what she was seeing. She could only imagine what Emma was feeling right now. She wished they could hear what was going on. "He was healthy when you left?" she asked, not knowing what else to say.

Granny and Ruby moved closer to the mirror, Ruby watching the faces in the mirror intently. "The dwarf says that it's serious," she muttered.

Emma tore her eyes from her son's image to stare at Ruby. "How …?"

"I can read lips," Ruby replied, then focused back on the mirror. "It's … can't make out the word, sorry … but it's a consuming sickness," she translated what she could make out for Emma. "He says that there's nothing more he can do … oh, Emma … he says all they can do is wait but that it doesn't look good."

Emma could see her mother crying, giving credence to what Ruby had read. Then Henry opened his eyes and Emma felt as if he was staring right at her. His lips moved, and she didn't need Ruby to relay what he was saying. He was calling out for his mother.

Emma crumpled to her knees, letting go of Regina in the process. As soon as their connection was severed, so was the link to Henry's room in the White castle. "Nooo," Emma wailed. "Henry."

Regina had no idea what to do. Her heart was breaking at the sight of Emma in so much distress, and she tried in vain to reestablish the connection. If only Emma could see the boy, she thought.

"I have to go home," Emma muttered, standing up quickly, although she was still feeling shaky and very much unlike a stern, unwavering knight of the realm. She was just a scared mother. "I need to go home _now_." She tore at her hair as she paced the room, leaving Regina feeling utterly helpless. "I'll never make it, though, am I?"

Emma's eyes found Regina's, and the despair the witch could see in them made her heart clench. "Even if I slept in the saddle, it would still take me a good month to get home … and two horses probably ..."

"Let me take you," Regina offered. "I can get you to Henry in two days."

"How?" Emma blurted, but the question was almost drowned out by Granny's and Ruby's loud protests.

"You can't, Regina!" Ruby shouted.

Mirrored by Granny's, "That's not possible!"

Regina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "If I turn into my dragon self," she told Emma, ignoring her family. "I can fly you there … and once we're there I could try to heal him."

"Regina …" The warning in Granny's low growl was hard to miss. "You can't." There were tears in the old woman's eyes. "Even if you made it there alive — and that's a big if — they'd kill you there!"

"They hate you," Ruby added. "Everything about you."

"Why would you say that?" Emma looked startled. "What kind of people do you think we are?"

"Remember that we're from the White Lands as well, Ser Emma," Granny retorted. "A lot of people there hang on to old beliefs as you well know, rife with superstition."

"Regina is a dragon and a witch," Ruby added calmly. "And if there's anything people in the White Lands fear more than dragons, it's magic."

Granny nodded. "If Regina even survived the strain of the trip, she'd be killed once she got you two there, especially if she used magic to help Henry."

Emma opened her mouth to say something but Ruby interrupted her before she had the chance. "Don't say you would protect her, Princess Emma," she younger werewolf growled. "Even if you tried, they'd just kill her once your back was turned."

Emma held up her hand to stop Ruby. "I know you have no reason to trust me but believe me when I tell you _that_ wasn't what I was going to say," she stated, her voice low and pressed by the emotions clogging her throat.

She turned to Regina. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for the offer … but Granny and Ruby are right." She gave the two of them a rueful smile. "You can't take that risk … not for me."

"Emma," Regina said slowly, insistently. "I'm going to be dead in a few weeks anyway. Time is running out for me."

Emma could see the tears in Granny's eyes and the way she clung to her granddaughter. "That makes it even more important that you use the time you have remain—"

"And do what?" Regina asked plaintively. "Embroider my funeral dress?" She laughed darkly. "That's not the woman I am, Ser Emma, or have ever been." Her face was deadly serious. "I've done some really bad things in my lifetime," she rasped. "In the name of revenge … and even though that feels like a lifetime ago, the debt is still there."

"You paid that debt, Regina," Ruby said. "Everyone here in this part of the land would agree."

"Ah, yes …" Regina sighed. "The only part of the known world where the name Yolbriidur is a blessing, not a curse."

"So you _are_ Yolbriidur," Emma stated. Involuntarily, she blanched a little because she had grown up with stories of what that dragon did to small children, and even though she knew the woman before her was safe, there was a moment of fear and the instinct to find her sword.

"Now you see why this is an even worse idea than I made it sound before," Granny said pointedly, staring at the way Emma's hand had gone to her hip and her absent sword. "If _you_ react that way, what do you think your parents or the guards will do if you land on the castle grounds on the back of the feared dragon?"

Emma had no idea what her parents would do, but she was certain it wouldn't be good. "Regina, you can't."

"And yet, I will," Regina stated calmly. "If I have to die — and I am not quite as decrepit yet as Granny makes me out to be — than at least I could die doing something good. If you won't allow me to do it for you, then let me do it for your son." She could see Emma's resistance waning. "Let me try and save your son … and even if I can't save him, then you could at least see him one last time."

Emma bit her lower lip, her mind warring with her heart. "If you're sure," she finally said, although it almost sounded like a question.

Regina nodded but Emma could see that there was a trace of very understandable doubt. "You should pack your things," Regina suggested. "Your horse will have to remain here, however." She looked at Granny, who was still scowling at them both while fighting the tears in her eyes. "We will leave in an hour."

With one last nod at Emma, she swept out of the room, Granny and Ruby following her at a trot. Emma spared one last, forlorn look at the mirror, than headed for her room to get ready.

As she hurried past the door to the library, she heard hissed voices coming from inside the room. She stopped to listen, heart beating in her throat, telling herself that she needed to know if she had to saddle up her horse and ride instead of flying with Regina.

"Are you sure about this?" Granny asked sadly.

"I know you have feelings for her," Ruby added, causing Emma's eyebrows to rise. "But sacrificing yourself on the off-chance that you can save the boy?"

"You two make it sound like I won't even get there," Regina complained.

"It is a very real possibility," Granny grumbled. "You can't blame us for not wanting to lose you any sooner than we have to."

"It's just … I think we're both afraid we won't be seeing you again," Ruby admitted. "And if you die out there, we won't even know."

Emma could hear in the voices that all three women were fighting tears now or openly crying. She swallowed hard. What right had she to make Regina take such a risk? Was getting back to Henry really worth playing with a woman's life like that? A large part of Emma knew it was too much to ask, knew that she wasn't worth risking that much for, but to her deep shame, an even larger part accepted that she wanted this with a burning, longing intensity.

"I know you've been feeling better since Emma has arrived," Granny was saying just then. "I'm not sure what's happen—"

"It's Emma," Regina replied simply. Emma perked up. What about her? What was she doing? "We've been … getting closer."

Ruby snorted. "Oh, really? We hadn't noticed."

Granny actually giggled lightly. "So … not that you and Emma weren't giving off enough sparks to light the lanterns from here to Starkhaven, but what—"

"When we kiss," Regina explained hesitantly. "It feels as if I'm gaining energy, and the more … intimate the kiss, the better I feel afterwards."

"So you must be completely juiced up after a … vigorous coupling," Ruby mused with a smirk that Emma could hear outside in the hall. "No wonder you've been flying every night since her arrival. Starkhaven hasn't been this well supplied in years, I bet."

There was a pause, and Emma wondered what was going on. Then Regina whispered, "We haven't …" There was a sigh. "She's so … _frustratingly_ chivalrous about it."

_Maker, I shouldn't have resisted all these nights,_ Emma whined in her head. How was she supposed to know their time was running out so fast? But this was giving her an idea, knowing from Regina's earlier estimation that they would have to stop for the night on the way. If she could recharge Regina by making love to her, then Emma couldn't imagine doing anything more pleasurable. Or anything she wanted more. Apart from getting home to Henry.

With renewed hope, and somewhat relieved, Emma stepped away from the door and rushed to her room, not realizing that three women were listening to her footsteps, one even with smile on her face.

—-

It had taken Emma about an hour to let go of the absolute terror of flying high over the land at very high speeds atop a dragon. She dug her fingers into the scales and small horns so hard that she almost lost feeling in them and was forced to relax her hold somewhat unless she wanted to lose all feeling — and her hold.

Regina had told her not to worry, to relax but it was in vain. In the end, Regina had just huffed in mild annoyance but still had decided to fly as smoothly as she could — and refrain from having fun with her passenger and doing some rather more fun flight maneuvers — to allow Emma time to get used to the feeling of being airborne.

"This is much better than horseback riding," Emma now said, barely audible over the sound of the wind.

Regina shook her massive head. "Are you comparing me to that mangy horse you came to us with?"

Her voice rumbled, and Emma wondered for the first time if she wasn't calling her companion by the wrong name. "Should I be calling you Yolbriidur when you're a dragon?" she asked.

The sound the dragon made was one of clear disgust. "Regina will do fine," she replied. "Yolbriidur was a name given to me by the people who killed my mate and then hunted me."

"Regina it is." Emma wrapped herself closer around the dragons neck. "I'm sorry that my grandfather killed your mate and turned you into the hunted dragon you became."

Regina was quiet for so long that Emma began to wonder if her words had gotten lost on the wind. She was just about to repeat them when Regina finally replied. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Princess … I am the one who chose the walk the path of revenge, and I did kill many people in my thirst for vengeance."

"Why did you stop?" The question had been at the tip of Emma's tongue ever since she figured out who Regina really was.

"I received no satisfaction from killing the ones who had wronged me and my mate," Regina explained, but Emma had to strain to hear it. She clung even closer, resting her head atop Regina's, right between two rows of horns. It was strangely comfortable. "And being feared … it's not nearly as great as being loved, and once I realized the difference …"

She trailed off but Emma could finish the rest. "Granny and Ruby," she surmised.

"They found me when I was beginning to feel the effects of the curse for the first time," Regina continued the story. Emma closed her eyes to listen, one hand stroking the scales on the side of Regina's head. "I was in a cave in the mountains, feeling like my body was being turned inside out, and in walked these two wolves, one barely beyond being a cub." Regina snorted, which translated to a rumble in her current form. "I expected them to kill me but they didn't. They've been with me ever since."

"Maybe because they've known their own curse," Emma commented.

"Maybe."

"This curse that is killing you …" Emma started. "Is there any way to stop it?"

"We've tried everything," Regina replied. "Granny even hunted down the sorcerer who gave your grandfather the curse—"

"Wait!" Emma exclaimed. "My grandfather cursed you?"

"It's the same curse that killed Daniel."

"Your mate?"

"Yes. When he was in his human form, his name was Daniel, and he was the sweetest man you could imagine." Regina's voice turned sad. "When your grandfather killed Daniel, he spotted me in the distance as I was flying in to help Daniel. The king shot one of his cursed arrows at me but it was only a glancing blow, barely hit me, which is why the curse is working slowly. It comes and goes but in the end …"

"It's going to kill you," Emma finished sadly. "Unless we find a way to stop it."

"Emma." There was a warning in that tone. "There's nothing to be done … only an act of true love can break this kind of curse, and even that is not a sure thing." It certainly hadn't worked with Daniel, Regina thought bitterly, and she had loved him with all of her heart.

The next few hours were spent in silence, each woman lost to their own thoughts until Emma noticed that Regina was beginning to move sluggishly and they were losing height. Emma scanned the area they were flying over and was astounded to see how far they'd gotten in just one day.

"We should stop for the night," Emma suggested. "There's a relatively clean tavern in the next village if I remember correctly, so maybe we should land by that forest over there and walk the rest of the way."

She tried hard not to show her worry when Regina started to descend without even a token protest.

—-

They landed close to the tree line about half an hour's walk from the village Emma remembered from a few months ago. She jumped off the dragon's back then walked around to lose some of the stiffness of the long — and cold — ride in the cold air. When she turned back to Regina, she almost swallowed her tongue at the sight of her.

Regina's legs were encased in skin-tight black leather, which almost looked scaly, just like the equally black and equally tight vest she wore over a white shirt. "I-Is that ...?" Emma wasn't quite sure how to ask the question.

"Dragonhide, yes." And then Regina stumbled, too tired to stand up.

Three long strides had Emma by her side. Emma had the insane urge to scold Regina for flying too long, too far, for risking too much, but stopped herself in time. It would have been entirely too hypocritical, and also absolutely useless, so she did the next best thing. She cupped Regina's face in both hands and kissed her, long and slow, moving her lips across Regina's with loving intensity, wondering if she could give Regina more of herself if she did something. _Anything_. So she wished fervently, and kissed her deeper, never noticing the small wisps of purple smoke, so faint as to be almost translucent, move from her to Regina.

"Thank you for doing this for me," she finally said reverently, breathing the words onto Regina's lips.

Regina simply nodded, somewhat stunned by the powerful kiss, then took Emma's offered arm, and together they made their way to the tavern and some well-earned food and rest.

Although rest was not all Emma had in mind for the night, especially not after the kiss that had her veins sing with desire and her body burning for more.

—-

Emma got them a room and a large pot of beef stew, then went back down for some of the local ale. They shared their dinner and more kisses in front of the fire in their room, seeking both the warmth of the flames as well the closeness sharing provided. Emma kept a close eye on Regina, watching and waiting for the color to return to her cheeks but it was a slow process.

When Regina excused herself to go and have a quick bath, Emma returned the empty pot to the tavern owner, ordering two more pints of ale at the same time. As she waited for the ale to arrive, she listened to the patrons around her, and smiled in relief when none of them mentioned seeing a dragon. The last thing she wanted to do that night was to have to fend off some enthusiastic locals on the hunt for a bit of dragonhide.

Regina still hadn't returned to the room but Emma forced herself not to go look for her. She got out of her clothes and washed herself with the tepid water in the wash basin next to the fire, then climbed into the small but surprisingly comfortable bed. After a moment's thought, she wiggled out of her underclothes as well, and tossed them in the general direction of the rest of her clothes.

Hopefully, this wouldn't backfire.

The look on Regina's face when she returned to the room — vest open and shirt laces half undone — told her it didn't. The slow smirk that grew around Regina's mouth at the sight of Emma's obviously naked shoulders under the single blanket brought Emma's desire back to pre-dinner levels. Emma smiled and beckoned Regina over with one finger. "Join me," she rasped.

Transfixed, Regina nodded and walked closer, allowing Emma to reach out and pull at the laces holding the shirt and the leather pants closed. She tugged with little patience, while Regina pulled off the vest and kicked off her boots. In no time at all, Regina was standing naked in front of the bed, nipples hardening in the slightly chill air. Emma held up the blanket with one hand, and tugged at Regina's hip with the other, and just like that, their bodies were pressed together, and the feeling elicited a groan from both of them.

"I'm glad to see your chivalry has its limits," Regina moaned as Emma ran one hand up the ridges of her spine. She found herself hoping that this was not just some form of quid pro quo for Emma, even though she had dropped the hint mostly for that reason, knowing she would need the boost during this trip. But now that they were here, together, Regina couldn't switch off her feelings, couldn't stop herself from hoping that this might mean something to Emma, too.

"I have no idea how I managed to resist you for a whole week," Emma admitted, her eyes dark with desire. Then she decided that talking was overrated and focused on touching, tasting, feeling instead, kissing her way down Regina's throat and towards her breasts. When her lips closed around an already hardening nipple, Regina's hands flew into her hair, tugging, pulling, directing Emma's head. Emma groaned at the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, and gave back as good as she got, nipping her way from one breast to the other, leaving small bite marks and laving them with her tongue to alleviate the pain.

"I won't break," Regina moaned.

"And I'm not done yet," Emma replied, adding a sharp nip that had Regina arching her back with a gasp of pleasure.

"You're so beautiful," Emma muttered against Regina's skin. "I want you so much."

"Then have me," Regina offered, demanded, her fears finally alleviated by the unmistakable desire in Emma's voice. It wasn't just a business transaction, not for either of them, and all of a sudden Regina felt free enough to admit, "I need you."

Emma surged up to capture Regina's lips once more. "I'll give you what you need," she whispered against her mouth. "Everything you need, everything you want." She rolled Regina onto her back and settled between her legs, pressing her own sex against Regina's with slow, rhythmic rolls of her hips, not quite prepared for the jolt of arousal it caused in her body. She tried to slow down to regain some self-control but Regina pulled her in, hands on Emma's ass, legs bent at the knees, open wide, in an effort to get Emma closer, to have more contact.

"It's not wise to tease a dragon," Regina complained when Emma refused to follow the commands of Regina's body. "Not now … later maybe."

"You're right," Emma agreed. "We have all night." She focused on her rhythm, on Regina's, quickly finding a fluid, rolling movement, pressing herself fully against Regina. Her head bent to capture a nipple in her teeth, mirroring the rhythm of her hips with her lips, her tongue, her teeth.

When she felt herself and Regina getting closer to the edge, Emma trailed one hand down Regina's body and worked it between them. Without warning, she slid two fingers inside Regina and used her thumb to lightly tap on Regina's clit. Not to be outdone, Regina followed her move and pushed into Emma, who faltered in her rhythm for only a moment before pumping her hand and hips with renewed vigor.

"Harder," Regina ordered.

"More," Emma requested.

She was rewarded with the slight burn and the added fullness of another finger inside her, sliding into her deeply, driving her higher and higher, relentlessly pushing her towards her climax.

"Maker," Emma moaned as she spiraled upwards, faster and faster. "Feels so good, Regina."

Regina could only moan in response as her exhausted body soaked up the attention and the energy their coupling provided. She felt more alive than she had in years as she dug the fingers of her free hand into the muscles of Emma's back, no doubt leaving marks. She never wanted this to end, never wanted to stop pleasuring this woman, being pleasured by this woman, didn't want to come just yet, not yet,_ not yet_, didn't want to die, not a small death, not any kind of death. Not when the alternative was doing this with Emma, all the time, always, for eternity. Regina wanted to cling to this feeling, wanted to hold out, _hold out hold out hold—_

She came with a shout that she barely managed to muffle against the skin of Emma's shoulder. Her whole body stiffened, then relaxed, just a second before Emma's did the same, and the knight came undone with a loud moan that could probably be heard down in the tavern.

Neither of them cared.

And since they both had their eyes closed, neither of them saw the cloud of purple magic that surrounded them, moving from Emma to Regina and back in a circle of energy.

Emma collapsed, unable to hold herself up, as Regina pulled her hand from between their bodies and wrapped Emma in a tight hug with both arms and legs. "That was wonderful," she husked, her mouth already seeking out Emma's for another kiss.

"That was only the beginning," Emma promised and returned the kiss. Then she trailed her lips down Regina's body and began to make good on her pledge.

—-

Regina woke up with a smile on her face. She was in Emma's arms and the night was just barely giving way to the pale pink light of dawn outside their window. Emma was sleeping peacefully, wrapped around her like a blanket, so Regina used the time to take stock of her situation.

She was feeling … all right, she thought as she felt for her magic and her reserves. Her magic was as juiced up as it could be thanks to Emma's tireless dedication the evening before but it was her cursed body that gave her pause. While superficially everything seemed in order — she knew she would look as healthy as she ever had — she could feel a bone-deep exhaustion that had taken root weeks, maybe even months before, and had now been made abundantly clear by the long flight yesterday.

Regina knew without a doubt that flying Emma all the way to her parents' castle, to her son, would probably be her last long flight ever. It seemed that Granny's fears had been quite well-founded, and no amount of kisses or loving attention from Ser Emma Swan would change that.

She was dying. Hell, she was as good as dead already, and all she could do now was to make sure that Emma saw her son again, and maybe try and heal Henry before finding a nice, quiet, out of the way place to rest her weary body. And die.

The only thing worrying her was the fact that shortly before his death the curse had caused Daniel's body to fluctuate between dragon form and human form, so Regina hoped with all her might that her body resisted the curse's final blow long enough to get away from the castle and the people who hated her. She wondered if she should tell Emma but she decided to wait until it became absolutely necessary while hoping that this moment would never come. She wanted Emma to remember her the way she had been the week before, last night, and not as some curse-induced freak show to be feared.

When Emma woke up minutes later with a bright smile, Regina's face had relaxed and smoothed out, mask firmly in place.

—-

They barely made it to the forest outside of White castle, Regina losing energy even faster than she had expected in the final hour of the trip. She successfully fought not to let Emma notice, so when she landed in a clearing in the forest and transformed into her human form only to immediately collapse in a heap at Emma's feet, the knight was shocked and angry.

"Damn, Regina!" she yelled. "Why didn't you say anything?"

She pressed her lips to the unconscious woman's lips, hoping she could give her a jolt of energy that way but it wasn't helping. Trying hard not to panic, Emma paced the forest clearing until she heard a faint moan coming from Regina.

"Regina," Emma was on her knees by Regina's side in an instant. "Regina, can you hear me? What do I do?" And there was the panic she had barely managed to keep away.

"That … was … a little much," Regina breathed out weakly. "Sorry, Emma."

"The only thing you should be sorry about is not stopping when you got tired," Emma protested but there was no further comment from Regina apart from her eyes rolling back into her skull before closing once more. "Come on, Regina," Emma coaxed gently. "Please? I can't lose you now … not when we're so close."

Close to what exactly, Emma had no idea. She just knew that there was more she wanted. More time, more Regina.

Regina moaned again as she drifted in and out of consciousness. "You … should go to the castle," she murmured. "See Henry."

"Yes, good idea," Emma agreed. "We'll go as soon as you can stand."

Regina shook her head. "No … need to stay here. Need rest … and my body will …"

"Your body will …?" Emma asked when nothing else was forthcoming but Regina's eyes were already closed again.

Emma looked through the trees towards the White castle, surprised that no guards had yet come to check out the area. She would have to have words with her men, she thought randomly. With a sigh, she put one arm under Regina's shoulders and the other under her knees and lifted her up until she was standing, Regina settled safely and comfortably in her arms.

Then she started to walk.

"Emma," Regina moaned some time later as her body alerted her that it would transform soon, and she knew she didn't have enough reserves to prevent it. The curse wanted to consume the dragon, and it was doing everything to get that dragon. "You have to … put me down."

"What?" Emma panted. "Why? We're almost there."

She was already on the bridge leading up to the castle, could in fact see the courtyard up ahead, and a few more steps would have them inside and closer to where Regina could rest. Closer to Henry, too, but Emma was torn between those thoughts. She pushed on, pushed through the feeling that Regina was getting heavier in her arms.

In minutes they were inside the courtyard, and Emma's knees almost buckled in relief. She could see one of the guards running off, most probably to alert her parents, and she struggled to walk a little closer to the big oaken door of the castle.

"Emma." Another moan, this time deeper and even more urgent. "My body … turning into … dragon form," Regina moaned. "Can't stop it … too tired … the curse …"

Emma carefully lowered Regina to the ground, right there in the middle of the courtyard, then sat down and rested Regina's head on her thighs, running her hand through the dark hair, willing her energy to flow to the other woman.

A shudder went through Regina as her body changed in front of Emma's eyes. It was the fist time she had witnessed the transformation, and she couldn't look away as the beautiful woman turned into the equally beautiful and majestic dragon. She was so engrossed in her friend that she didn't realize that a crowd had started to gather around them, weapons drawn, albeit a safe distance away.

Among them were the king and queen.

"You did it!" Queen Snow exclaimed joyfully. "You slew the fearsome dragon Yolbriidur! All hail Ser Emma, First Knight of the Realm."

"What? No!" Emma protested. "You don't understand."

"Congratulations!" her father added. "There shall be a feast in honor of Ser Emma, the fiercest knight in all the realms!" The guards all around the courtyard celebrated that announcement, and the king looked like he was bursting with pride.

Emma could hear Regina huffing quietly but no less scornfully but that was all the dragon was capable of at the moment. Emma gently moved out from under Regina's head and walked towards her parents. "You don't understand," she tried again. "I didn't slay any dragon." She turned her back to Regina. "Especially not her."

"Emma, what is going on here?" Snow asked. "Is that beast still breathing?"

The king drew his sword and took a step towards Regina, weapon raised high. "Not for long," he proclaimed.

"Father, no!" Emma yelled, scrambling back again and putting one hand on Regina's massive dragon snout, softly stroking, trying to comfort, while the other stretched towards her father. "She's my friend. She's hurt."

"She?" The king and queen stared at their daughter. "It's a dragon," Snow said slowly, almost spitting the word. "A savage beast, unfeeling and murderous. How can you say something like that is your friend?"

"She's not just a dragon," Emma insisted.

Snow's eyes narrowed. "Oh, I know," she replied, eyes and voice cold. She took her husband's sword from his hand and stalked towards Regina. "Not any dragon … Yolbriidur," she hissed the name slowly, drawing out every syllable. "Now I can finally avenge my father."

"Mother!" Emma tried again, scrambling to her feet and putting herself between Regina and Snow. "She's the only one who can save Henry."

That stopped Snow short. "Henry?" she asked, dazed. "How do you know about Henry?"

Emma let out the breath she had been holding for what felt like forever. "That's a long story," she said. "But first Regina needs rest. The trip here was long and hard." She put her hand back onto the beautiful, scaly head, willing to let her own strength pour into Regina. It was easier than she thought it would be, even after the night before, but she felt as if the energy flowed easily between them now. She just hoped it was enough to stabilize Regina.

"Rest?! Rest for a _dragon_?" Snow gasped. "Are you out of your mind? It can have eternal rest once it's dead!"

"Ask … for Ethelgard," Regina breathed, ignoring the queen's posturing. She sounded a little better, but her voice was a mere whisper only for Emma's ears, so it was hard to tell. "One of the cooks. Friend of Granny's. From Starkhaven ... She'll help …"

"I need to talk to Ethelgard," Emma immediately demanded. At her mother's blank stare she added, "One of the cooks." She called over a guard. "Please go and ask her to come out here as quickly as she can." When the guard looked at Queen Snow for confirmation, Emma yelled at him, "Now!"

He ran off, half the eyes in the courtyard following him.

Emma turned back to her mother and father. "Please return to your court business," she said curtly, all attempts at courtesy having flown out the window at her parents' reaction to Regina. "I'll take care of Regina, then go find Henry."

Snow studied her for a long moment, then shook her head. "I don't think so," she declared. "The best I can offer you is a chance to explain once you've come to your senses." She turned to the contingent of guards that was standing off to one side. "Get some rope and drag that … beast to a cage. I will consider what is to be done with it tomorrow."

"What about Henry?" Emma asked.

"Henry is stable for the moment, and the court physician is with him night and day," Snow replied, her features softening a little. "Besides, do you really think that beast can help him _now_?"

Emma shook her head, not believing her mother's coldness. Had she known, she never would have let Regina come here. But her mother was also right; in her current state, Regina would not be able to help anybody, not herself, not Henry. She needed to help Regina get her strength back, and then get her out of here.

She turned back to her mother but was distracted by gasps all around and fingers pointing to Regina. Emma whirled back, only to be faced with the human form, curled up on the ground in her dragonhide pants and vest, panting slightly. Her face was ashen nut not as starkly white as it had been earlier.

"Regina!" Emma fell to her knees beside her.

"What magic is this?" Snow demanded. "Where did the dragon disappear to? Who _are_ you?" she yelled at Regina.

"This is Regina," Emma snarled, not taking her eyes off Regina. She reached out to run her fingers through tangled dark hair. "She's my friend," she added more softly. "She only came here to help Henry."

"With magic?" Snow shrieked.

"Would you rather see him dead than accept her help, _Your Majesty_?" Emma snarled. "He is the heir to the throne. He's your _grandson_." _And I thought you loved him, _she added in her head.

"Fine, by all means," the Queen ground out. "Lock her up," she ordered the guards. "In the morning she can try and help the prince. If she manages to save him, I might spare her life."

Emma couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You can't—"

"I can," Snow said slowly, over her shoulder, already on her way back into the castle. "She might not look like it right now, but she is still the dragon Yolbriidur who killed my beloved father King Leopold, and you'd all do well to remember that."

"After he killed _her_ family!" Emma yelled, thoroughly disgusted and frustrated. "Don't you care about what happened? He got a curse from a sorcerer and killed a helpless dragon!"

"Don't be absurd, Emma," Snow sneered. "Father hated magic, he _never_ touched it. He valiantly fought a dragon and won, no matter what that witch has told you." Snow heaved a breath. "Besides, dragons are beasts ... How can they have families?"

Then she was gone, King David following after her but he at least gave his daughter a half-shrug of apology. As soon as they were inside the castle, the guards surrounding Emma and Regina turned their eyes to their commanding knight, unsure what to do since she was standing in a protective stance over Regina's body.

The castle door flew open and a heavy-set older woman bustled through, pushing guards out of the way as she went. "Oh, Lady Regina," she cried when she took in the situation. She hurried over to the prone woman and crouched down next to her.

"Weak," was all Regina said.

"I can see that," Ethelgard commented before she started digging around in the basket that was slung over her arm. She pulled out a flask and held it to Regina's lips. "Here, drink this," she ordered. "All of it."

"How did you ..." Emma stared at the flask.

"Everyone in Starkhaven knows Lady Regina," Ethelgard murmured. "Besides, not an hour ago a raven arrived from the North with a message from Granny, telling me what to do. I barely had time to finish the infusion." She pursed her lips. "Granny was hoping you'd be more mindful of your own health and take at least three days to get here."

"I didn't think it was going to be this bad," Regina admitted between sips of the drink. Emma was still feeding her energy as well, albeit, she assumed, unconsciously so. She recognized the drink straight away; it was a powerful stimulant. She couldn't blame Granny for sending the recipe to Ethelgard since it was painfully clear that Regina needed it.

"We'll have you better by first light," Ethelgard promised, then turned to Emma. "But she needs a bed, and rest." With the way she emphasized the last word, Emma wondered what exactly the message from Granny had said.

"Are you going to turn back to your dragon form?" Emma asked softly, her hand lightly stroking Regina's arm.

Regina felt inside her body for a long moment. "No," she finally said. "I think I'm stable for now, especially with this." She held up the almost empty flask. "The curse seems to have withdrawn its claws for the moment."

"We'll take her to my quarters in the barracks then," Emma stated, loud enough for the guards to hear. There was grumbling at the clear violation of the queen's orders. "Come on, Men," Emma said with a roll of her eyes. "What safer place than the knight's quarters in the castle barracks?"

When the guards nodded and proceeded to walk away, Emma leaned closer to Ethelgard. "I don't know what the queen has planned for the morning," she whispered, "but we might need to get out of here quick."

"I'll do whatever needs to be done," Ethelgard promised without hesitation. "It was time I returned home to the North anyway. I don't really like the backwards attitude here."

Emma couldn't help herself; she laughed, but it was a brittle sound.

—-

Emma woke up feeling tired. She hadn't slept much, spending most of the time worrying — about Regina, about Henry — and thinking about her future. She had no idea what was going to happen, not in a few hours, let alone in a few days. All she knew was that her future seemed linked to Regina's, for better or worse.

She looked at the sleeping woman, barely able to make out her features in the still dark room even though Regina was lying almost on top of her. So beautiful, so serene in her sleep. Emma closed her eyes again, tightened her arms around Regina, and thought back to the night before.

She had gotten Regina settled in her quarters, watched over by a vigilant and supportive Ethelgard, who had sworn she would defend Lady Regina with her life, if need be. Then Emma had snuck into the castle to see Henry. He had been sleeping, albeit fitfully, interrupted by a cough now and then, and Emma had sat on his bed, trying not to let her crying disturb the rest he needed so much.

Her boy had been so pale, almost as pale as Regina had been, and his lips had been tinged almost blue. Emma wondered how long he had been sick like that and couldn't stop herself from hoping that Regina could heal him. She hoped her parents would let her try.

And as soon as Henry was healed, she would take him and Regina, and even Ethelgard, and would leave this place behind once and for all. Even if they couldn't stay with Regina and her family, they would make a home in the North, possibly in Starkhaven. Henry would come with her, wouldn't he?

When there had been footsteps outside Henry's room, she had snuck out and made her way back to Regina's side only to find the woman awake and talking to Ethelgard in that language of the North that Emma couldn't understand. As soon as she had shown up in the door, however, Ethelgard had given Regina a knowing look, then left with a small chuckle. Regina's eyes had turned to Emma then, beckoning, and Emma had fallen into her arms willingly to find some rest of her own.

Now, as the room brightened a little in the pale dawn light, Emma watched Regina wake up slowly, pressing her face into the crook of Emma's neck, and letting out a quiet snore that Emma found rather adorable. She ran her hand down the ridge of Regina's spine and pressed a kiss to her head. "Morning," she whispered, forgetting their situation for one moment.

Regina made a grumbling sound deep on her throat, more dragon than human, before raising her head and pressing an uncoordinated kiss to Emma's cheek, clearly not fully awake yet.

"How are you feeling?" Emma whispered.

Regina groaned. "Not dead yet," she replied after a moment, and it didn't come across as flippantly as it had probably been meant. "Better," she amended. "Not good, but better."

"Good." Emma exhaled slowly in relief.

Regina looked up at that, studying Emma's face. "I will try and heal Henry today … if you still want me to, that is."

"Why would I not want that?" Emma was surprised at the question. "I'd love that, but only — and I really mean that — only if you're feeling up to it." She brushed a lock of dark hair out of Regina's face. "He really did look stable last night … just like my mother said." The last part was added almost grudgingly. "I should never have made you come here, Regina," Emma then suddenly blurted out. "I'm so sorry you endangered your life for me!"

"I'm not," Regina muttered. When Emma didn't meet her eyes, Regina sat up and gently forced Emma chin up until her eyes reluctantly met Regina's. "Neither of us could know how this all played out, Emma … and if I can heal Henry, I consider this a well-spent few last days."

"What do you mean, _last days_?" Emma gasped.

Regina sighed. "Emma, you knew I was dying," she replied patiently. "The trip here … well, I made it here because of you, and once I heal Henry, I'll head back home … slowly. If I'm lucky, I'll make—"

There was a sudden ruckus outside the door, the sound of many man scrambling to their feet, just seconds before there was a sharp knock on the door.

"Yes?" Emma asked.

"It's me," a male voice said, muffled only a little by the door. "Your father."

Regina waved her hand almost lazily and had them both dressed in pants and shirts in the blink of an eye. Emma stared at her own body, blinking at the sudden change, then chuckling a little. "Nice trick," she mumbled as she got out of bed and stretched her muscles, which were stiff from the two days of riding a dragon in frigid air.

"Waste of magic," Regina muttered, sounding almost embarrassed, but also a little pleased at the compliment. She also got to her feet, albeit a bit more hesitantly than Emma, and smiled in relief when the world remained right side up when she was standing on her own two feet, unaided.

"Come in," Emma called out after one last loving look at Regina. She wondered what her father wanted.

The door opened and the king stepped inside, closing the door behind him. When it was almost closed, it swung open again, to allow Ethelgard to slip in behind him. The cook ignored the king apart from a perfunctory curtsey and bustled over to Regina's side, another flask in her hand. "Drink this," she ordered before facing Emma with a small nod and a mumbled, "Good morning, Ser Knight."

"Emma is fine," Emma replied with a grin. The more she saw of the woman, the more she liked her.

Her father on the other hand looked slightly disturbed by the cook and her charge, but one look at Emma's rather stormy face stopped whatever he was meaning to say. "Emma," he started. "I er ... I'm sorry that our reunion yesterday was a little ... difficult."

Emma snorted. "I don't understand why mother reacted the way she did." She turned sad eyes on her father. "I came here as quickly as I could because of Henry and that was only possible because of my friend here," she continued. "And what do you do? Threaten her life!"

Her father had the decency to look a little sheepish. "You know how your mother is about her father and his legacy," he said, and Emma wondered if that was his attempt at an apology. It was a poor one. "But that's not why I came to see you this morning."

Something in his voice alerted Emma immediately. "What happened?"

"Henry took a turn for the worse during the night," King David explained. "I think you should be by his side now."

Emma gasped. "How?!" she exclaimed. "I saw him not even five hours ago and he was sleeping peacefully."

"I don't know," the king replied. "But Doc said he doesn't have much time."

"Yes, all right," Emma rambled, at a loss at this completely unexpected information. "Regina ..." she started but wasn't sure what she was going to ask.

Regina was by her side in an instant. "Let's go save your son."

King David stepped in front of Regina. "You aren't going anywhere," he told her. "We still consider you a threat."

"You are an idiot, Shepherd," Regina hissed. "Would you rather let your heir die?"

"Who says you're here to help him?" the king snarled. "For all we know you could be the one making him sick." He raised his hand as if to strike Regina.

"Father!" Emma jumped between them. "Regina is the only one who can help him! I know you have no reason to trust her ... but you should trust _me_ on this. We're talking about _my_ son."

The king looked from Emma to Regina and back while Ethelgard was standing off to the side, looking like she was read to defend Regina with her life if need be.

"Please trust me, Father," Emma pleaded.

"Allow me to help Henry," Regina added. "I swear I only want to help him." Her face was sincere but Emma had a feeling that pleading to her father cost Regina a great deal of effort.

It took a minute but finally the king relented and nodded. "But you should probably go now while Snow is busy with the council."

With a nod and a smile at her father, Emma took Regina's hand and ran out the door, Ethelgard hot on their heels.

The king followed at a more sedate pace, his face uneasy.

—-

Emma and Regina stormed through the door of Henry's room, scaring everyone inside. Doc, the dwarven physician, was the first to recover and bow deeply. "Your Highness," he greeted her. "I'm afraid the news is bad. It's good that you have arrived home."

"What happened?" Emma asked while Regina leaned over the boy who was lying very still on the bed.

"I don't really know," Doc admitted, casting a suspicious glance towards Regina. "These things happen with an illness such as this." He looked uncomfortable, then tried to move closer to Regina but Emma blocked his way. "He was stable yesterday, and almost looked to be a little on the mend, but when I returned this morning, he was suddenly much worse than ever before."

"Where were you last night?" Emma inquired. "I was here and Henry was alone then."

"I was called away by a sudden emergency," Doc explained. "I was fetched by a guard who said there had been an accident ... but when I got there, it didn't seem to require that much attention after all."

"So you went to see your brothers for a pint in the tavern?" Emma surmised, having known the dwarf all her life.

Doc hung his head in shame. Then his eyes caught the way Regina's hand was moving over Henry's body and he pushed past Emma with a shout. "Hey!"

Emma grabbed him by the arm. "It's all right," Emma assured him. "She's here to help."

"That remains to be seen," King David said from the doorway.

Doc smiled at him and nodded before sending another glare at Regina.

Regina ignored the dwarf as she ran her hand over Henry, feeling his body for the problem. She had tested his lungs first since Emma had said Henry had been coughing but she hadn't been able to feel anything of note. Now she was feeling deeper, letting her magic run through his body, checking for more _unusual_ things. There was something about this that looked suspicious to her, and then, suddenly, she felt it.

"Who had access to the boy?" she asked without taking her eyes off Henry.

"Why?" The king sounded suspicious.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Before he got sick, he used to run around all over the place, so I'd say everyone," she explained. "Once he was confined to this bed ... I'm not sure. Father?"

"Snow and I, Doc, the guards, the servants ..." King David replied reluctantly before letting out an impatient sigh. "Are you going to tell us what it is you think you found or not, Witch? Why did you ask?"

Regina looked at him over her shoulder. "Because Henry isn't sick," she replied. "At least not seriously."

Emma took a step closer. "He's not?" Her voice was vaguely confused. "But why—?"

"He was poisoned," Regina stated softly, one hand on Henry's forehead, one on Emma's arm. "Someone slipped him a poison, possibly in a potion. I detect a trace of magic, so I think that's what it was. Hard to tell what exactly it was but that was what caused the symptoms." She paused. "It must have been a while ago, too, because the poison has settled deep in his body, barely traceable."

"Then how can you be sure, Witch?"

"Because whoever wants Henry dead," Regina sighed, "didn't trust his or her own work, and gave him more poison last night."

"Oh." There was a world of sadness in Emma's tone. "Who would … he's just a boy …"

"And the heir to the throne," Regina pointed out. "For many that is reason enough."

"Can you help him?" Emma whispered hoarsely.

"I think so," Regina said quietly. "But … it's going to take a lot of magic. You may have to hold onto me."

"Anything you need," Emma promised.

Regina nodded before focusing back on Henry. She didn't see Doc and King David walk to the other side of the bed to watch closely, didn't see Emma sit down on the edge of the bed next to her, one hand on Henry's leg, one on Regina's hip. She didn't see King David's raised eyebrow at that, nor Ethelgard's smile, quickly hidden behind a hand. All she saw was the boy lying on the bed until she closed her eyes in concentration and saw only with her magic.

Regina felt for the dark pockets of poison she had spotted before, much easier to find now that she knew what she was looking for, and she realized that it had settled into many of his major organs. Slowly she began to draw out the poison from his liver, painfully meticulous, drawing the poison away from his body. She heard a gasp from next to her, and assumed that Emma was reacting to the sight of the poison being expelled, oozing out and into the air. She opened her eyes for a moment to confirm that it was actually working, and they were drawn instantly to the black-green mist that was slowly dissipating.

She closed her eyes once more and moved to the next organ, repeating the process.

Emma could only watch in awe as Regina seemed to pull the poison from her son's body with her bare hands, and she gasped when the thick mist appeared and then slowly evaporated. She was mesmerized by the sight of Regina's hands, crackling with magic, a white-purplish hue moving from her to Henry wherever she rested her hands. Regina moved surely over the body, as if she knew exactly where she needed to go next, and it was a wonderful sight to behold.

Regina had no idea how much time had passed by the time she finally made it to Henry's head, where some of the poison had burrowed deeply into the recesses of his brain, possibly muddling it on top of inflicting the wasting disease. She was beginning to feel light-headed due to the serious use of magic — more than she had expected, and the fight was harder, too — but tried to shake it off. She could feel Emma's hand digging deeper into her hip, alerting her to the fact that she hadn't been as successful as she had hoped about hiding her exhaustion.

Now Emma was saying something as well, but Regina couldn't afford to listen. Not now when the tendrils of her magic were weaving through the sensitive areas of Henry's brain, feeling out the last spots, the last remaining pockets of poison.

"Regina," Emma tried again, beginning to be seriously worried about Regina's state. "You're shaking like a leaf," she murmured. "I don't know how to give you more of me …"

Regina ignored her, and Emma assumed she hadn't even heard. She had been working for a couple of hours now, using magic constantly, unaware of anything going on around her. Unaware perhaps of how much energy she was expending, energy she really couldn't afford to lose, not this soon after her collapse the night before. Her color had almost completely vanished, face gaunt and ashen now, and now—

"Maker," Emma breathed, as she watched Regina sway on her feet, dangerously close to falling over on top of Henry. She jumped up, ready to pull Regina away when the other woman gasped softly and fell to her knees by the bed, spent.

Emma dropped to her knees by Regina's side, not surprised when Ethelgard was there in an instant as well.

"Too much, Lady Regina," the cook chided gently. "Always too much."

"Just … enough," Regina mumbled. "It's done ... Henry should wake up soon."

Emma was torn. She was deliriously happy that Henry was safe — and there was not even a speck of doubt on her mind that Regina had done it — while also being worried out of her mind for Regina now. The last thing she had wanted was for her son and the woman she … well, she cared for a lot to change places.

"Why didn't you stop?" she muttered. "You should have rested …"

Regina shook her head. "The poison would have spread again," she explained hoarsely. "Once I started, I needed to finish, no matter what." She turned her head to look at Henry. "He should be waking up …" She turned to Emma. "Help me up, please?"

Emma gently pulled Regina to her feet, then steadied her as she bent over Henry to check him again. Regina saw that the dwarf had one hand around the boy's wrist, checking his pulse against the pocket watch in his hand.

"He's breathing easy," Doc confirmed. "His heart beats calmly. I think he's just tired still."

Regina did her own inspection, lifting his eyelids to check his eyes, which were moving rapidly, then resting her hand over his heart and feeling into his body once more without using too much of her severely depleted magic.

Regina was just about to take her hand off Henry when the door burst open and the queen walked in, followed by a contingent of guards.

"There you are," Snow cried. "Are you threatening the heir to the throne?"

"No!" Emma jumped between her mother and Regina, a sense of deja-vu almost blindsiding her. "She just saved his life!"

"That's impossible!" Snow scoffed. "Magic only ever harms!"

"Snow," the king said placatingly. "It's true. Regina just saved Henry."

"Even if she did," Snow said. "Magic is an offense punishable by death in our realm."

"Since when?!" Emma shouted.

"Since this morning," Snow replied evenly.

Several sets of bewildered eyes turned to the queen, only Regina looked around the room for a means of escape. She knew how this was going to end, and she refused to give Emma's mother the satisfaction of putting her on trial. If she was even planning on doing that, given that she had brought a whole cadre of guards, and also had a bow and arrows slung around her shoulders.

"You just made a new law?" the king asked, sounding like he couldn't believe it.

"I've decreed many things today, yes," Snow retorted. She turned to Regina who was still shielded by Emma. "You should come quietly," she suggested. "Otherwise I'd have to use force." She took her bow from her shoulders and held it in one hand, still relaxed, but ready to raise it in an instant.

Emma swallowed hard when she got a good look at the bow and the quiver at the mother's hip. They were a family heirlooms; they had been King Leopold's. Instinctively, she took a step closer to the queen, both arms raised. "Mother," she said, using a word she hadn't uttered in years. "Please, don't do this."

Regina watched as Snow's face seemed to harden even more. Her gaze went around the room again and finally fell on Ethelgard who had slipped around everyone else and had made her way towards a large window that led out to a balcony. She watched as the cook unlatched the window and pushed it open before giving Regina an encouraging smile.

Regina watched as the queen raised the bow and nocked an arrow, and the sight of it caused a rush of panic as memories raced through her. Adrenaline pumped through her body, bringing with it the urge to run. She pressed herself against Emma's back for a too brief moment, her only chance of a goodbye, and whispered a brief, "I'm sorry," before launching herself onto the bed and over the head of the surrounding guards with an unnatural, magically enhanced grace and height. She sprinted through the window and launched herself off the balcony's ledge, her body transforming as soon as she was airborne. The wind even managed to almost drown out Emma's anguished cry of her name, and Snow's enraged shriek.

Regina headed straight for the forest, only too sure that the burst of adrenaline that had allowed her to escape would not carry her much further before she crashed. Even now she could feel her strength waning at an alarming rate, and she was beginning to see spots before her eyes. There, the glade where they had first sat down the day before. With a final burst of strength Regina dove down and managed to get close to the glade before losing consciousness and falling the rest of the way, crashing through the trees like a stone.

A murder of crows flew up where she crashed before settling down again, surrounding the downed dragon.

—-

Everyone in the room was too stunned to react for several long moments before Snow screamed in rage and ran after Regina, which was what got Emma out of her stunned stupor.

"Mother, no!" she yelled when she saw that Queen Snow drew back the arrow and took aim.

Emma sprinted for the balcony and lunged for her mother, knocking her to the ground and the arrow off course. It fell harmlessly to the ground below. The queen let out an enraged, bloodcurdling scream before scrambling to her feet and running back into the room. "Guards!" she shouted. "After her! Whoever brings me proof of the dragon's death receives a year's pay and promotion to Knight of the Realm. It seems Ser Emma is no longer interested in the position."

The guards shared a look, before one finally decided to be the first to follow the command and ran out the door, quickly followed by the rest, and — at a more sedate pace — the queen.

Emma ignored all of that, busy as she was watching the dragon fly away into the direction they had come from. She watched as Regina lost height, stared in horror as the magnificent dragon seemed to stumble in the air, and screamed when she saw her crash down in the forest. "Noooooo!"

She fell to her knees on the balcony, her eyes staring unseeingly into the distance until a hand on her shoulder brought her out of her dark fears. "You should go find her," Ethelgard suggested. "Before your mother and the guards do."

Emma only gave her a blank stare.

"Even if she's dead," Ethelgard added, "which I don't believe until I see it with my own eyes," she added quickly when she saw the look of loss in Emma's eyes. "Even then it would be better if you found her first, wouldn't you agree, Lady Emma?"

With a nod, Emma slowly got on her feet and slowly walked back into the room. In there, she was greeted by a sight that would have had her overjoyed a mere hour ago but now simply brought forth a small but happy and sincere smile. Henry was sitting up in his bed, talking to his grandfather, another unexpected sight. Emma had assumed the king would have run after his wife as was his custom.

"Mom!" Henry's excited shout made Emma jog towards his bedside. "You're home!"

"Yes, I am, my little prince," she whispered as she pulled him into a fierce hug which he returned in equal measure. "I'm so glad you're okay now," she rasped, emotion clogging her throat. "So glad."

"Me too," her son squeaked, and Emma loosened her hold a little. "Grandpa said your friend healed me?"

Emma shared a look with her father, who shrugged as if to say _well, she did._ "Yes, Henry," she replied with a smile. "Regina helped you … and now I need to go and help her."

"Why?" he asked curiously. "Is she sick as well?"

"She is," Emma nodded with watery eyes. "And if I don't go and help her, she'll die." _If she's not already dead yet. Or if mother and her guards don't find her first._ "Do you understand?"

"I want to go with you, Mom," Henry nodded. "I'm feeling much better and you might need me to help your friend."

"You just recovered from a serious illness, Henry," Emma denied his plea. "You can't come with me … It's much too dangerous."

"But I'm your squire," he insisted with a pout.

Emma smiled sadly. She had assumed Henry had forgotten the games they used to play, with Emma as the valiant knight and Henry as her equally valiant squire. "I know, Henry," she whispered. "But you were hurt and you need to get all better before we can go on another adventure." One that would take them far, far away from this castle that she couldn't stay in. "All right?"

Henry nodded reluctantly, his pout still as prominent as ever on his face.

Emma hugged her son again, then got to her feet beside her father. "Could you …"

"I'll keep an eye on him," King David promised. "Now go!"

—-

Emma sprinted to her quarters to fetch her weapons and her shield, then made for the stables. There were almost no guards around and those that were studiously ignored her, pretending to be too busy with their cuirasses or gauntlets to notice her. She saddled the first horse she found, then flew out of the castle as if the very devil were after her.

She rode straight for the forest, keeping her eyes open for her mother's guards, not to mention her mother herself, although she could hardly believe she would join in the hunt. But before last night she also would never have believed her mother could be anything but a fair or level-headed ruler, so she had no idea what to believe anymore.

She spotted some of the guards combing through the edge of the forest on foot, so she veered off to take the long way round, making the best of the fact that she knew these woods better than anyone, including all the shortcuts and obstacles. She also knew where Regina had been headed once she realized that she wasn't going to be able to keep flying, or so Emma hoped at least.

She raced along the tree line until she was closer to the glade, then cut through the trees down a little-known path, hoping to avoid the guards that way. She hadn't been riding for more than a few minutes when suddenly the smell of smoke and fire was in the air, which could only mean one thing.

Regina was fighting for her life.

She spurred on the horse and pushed on, uncaring of the branches in her way, her shield held high to protect her body. The horse was neighing in complaint but Emma paid it no mind, urging it on, urging it closer to the cacophonous sounds she could now hear.

—-

Regina knew it was over. If she were honest, she had known from the very start of this journey that she wouldn't return. The curse was sapping her strength and her magic, making recovery difficult, and if the curse's leeching of her body's energy wouldn't kill her, there was no shortage of enemies surrounding her now.

She had resigned herself to her death a long time ago, but the part of her that was all dragon, fierce and powerful, refused to give up. If she had to die, the dragon would do it fighting, not whimpering like the mighty dragonslayer Leopold had done. He had even soiled his breeches, Regina remembered in disgust, and that was definitely not how she was going to end.

If she had to die, she'd do it honorably, and in a way that would allow Emma to remember her fondly, and would bring pride to her family.

—-

Emma burst into the glade at full speed and pulled hard at the reins when she took in the scene. Regina was lying at the far side of the clearing, still in dragon form, her back pressed against a couple of trees, her wings held in front of her like the sides of a large cloak to protect her vulnerable belly. She was surrounded by a huge murder if crows — if Emma had to estimate she'd say there were at least a hundred — which were busy flying interference between the dragon and the approaching guard.

"STOP!" Emma yelled at the top of her lungs as she approached the front of the line. "Stop!"

The guard captain raised his hand and echoed her command. When the soldiers were frozen in line, he turned to Emma who was just dismounting. "Ser Emma!" He called out. "What is the meaning of this? Our orders are to kill the dragon."

"Graham, please," Emma urged as she recognized the man under his helmet. She hadn't seen him since her return and automatically smiled at her old friend. "That dragon is a good friend of mine."

Graham almost dropped his sword. "A ... friend?" He stared from Emma to the dragon and back. "The queen said the dragon was Yolbriidur."

"Would you believe me if I said it was complicated?" Emma asked sardonically, her eyes trained on Regina, who seemed to be panting and having trouble getting enough air into her body. "Can you send your man back to the castle, please?"

Graham sighed. "The queen promised them a great reward, Emma." He sounded apologetic. "I'm not sure my word holds that much weight."

"And they were told that I'm not their Knight of the Realm any longer, so they won't listen to me either."

Emma eyed the group of soldiers around them. She knew most of them well, had trained with them, lived with them, shared the barracks with them, but she knew better than most that at least half them harbored a great deal of resentment for her, if for nothing but the fact that she was a woman in a man's place. And the rest, well ... she had beaten most of them at one thing or another and they would gladly take any chance to pay her back for that.

Unconsciously, Emma shifted into a battle stance before nodding at Graham and turning to the assembled guard. "Men," she addressed them firmly. "You all know me, know what I'm capable of. So listen closely to what I'm telling now: If you want to kill my friend, you'll have t—"

"You might as well save your breath, Emma," the queen's voice rang out through the clearing, and Emma watched as her mother walked through the ranks of the guard which parted for her like the sea. "They will never go against my command," she stated evenly, her warning gaze wandering along the rank and file. When the queen was standing right in front of Emma, she added, her voice low and cold, "And neither should you."

"Mother," Emma tried once more to reason with the queen who seemed hell-bent on killing Regina. "Please leave us alone. Regina has done nothing but save Henry's life since she came here."

This caused a murmur in the group of soldiers, and Graham looked particularly disturbed. The queen, however, was not impressed. "The use of magic in this realm is forbidden," she snarled.

"Even if it was used to save the heir to the throne?"

"Of course," Queen Snow replied. "Anything else would not be fair, would it?"

The guards nodded, although some of them seemed to look a little perturbed.

"Enough talking," Queen Snow continued calmly as she drew her bow and took the last remaining arrow out of her quiver. She took a few steps towards Regina, Emma hot on her heels. "Do you know what this is?" she asked Regina, lifting her bow. "This is my father's bow, and this," she presented the arrow, "is the last of his arrows." She looked at Emma. "Fitting, isn't it?"

Emma looked at Regina and met those big, dark dragon eyes with her own. There was anguish in those eyes, but also resignation, and Emma knew without a doubt that Regina would not fight anymore.

"Goodbye, Yolbriidur, scourge of the White Lands."

Snow nocked the arrow and drew her hand back towards her ear as she took aim. The crows around Regina hovered in the air as time seemed to stand still. Emma sprinted for Regina and threw herself between her and the arrow's path just as her mother let it fly.

"No!" Emma screamed, echoed by her mother's tormented scream when her arrow headed straight for her daughter.

Regina roared and tried to nudge Emma out of the way but the knight wouldn't budge. "I can't let her kill you," Emma shouted, the last word turning into a scream as the arrow embedded itself deep in Emma's shoulder.

Regina screamed with rage and sorrow as Emma slumped against her body. Without her conscious command her body transformed and she pulled the injured knight into her arms. "You idiot," she rasped. "You should have let her kill me."

"Couldn't," Emma croaked, the curse on the arrow causing more damage than the comparatively minor wound should. She felt herself going fast but there was one more thing she needed Regina to know. "Love …you."

Regina sobbed as she pulled Emma even closer and pressed their lips together in a desperate kiss.

The white light that spread out from them both flattened every single person in the glade and caused the murder of crows to protest loudly and rise into the air as one.

Regina felt light as the curse was lifted from her body, her strength returning quickly. "The curse," she breathed against Emma's lips. "Emma, it's gone. You broke the curse."

Emma felt her own strength returning and winced when the wound in her shoulder now became the predominant problem. "Ouch," she muttered. "I did? I mean … we did?"

Regina nodded, a wide smile on her face. "You sacrificed yourself for me," she whispered. "An act of true love."

Emma nodded, then waggled her eyebrows. "Or, you know," she said with a grin. "It could have been the kiss. You could admit that you love me, too."

Regina leaned in to kiss Emma again. "I could, I suppose," she murmured. "But I think I don't have to."

"S'okay, I know what I need to know," Emma sighed. "Regina?"

"Hmm."

"I think I should see Doc now."

"Yes, if you think you have to."

"Or you could heal me," Emma suggested.

Regina smiled and held up the arrow. "What do you think I've been doing while we were talking, dear?" She poked Emma in the shoulder for good measure.

"Have I mentioned that your magic is awesome?" Emma smiled. Then she turned serious. "Thank you for saving Henry … really, thank you."

"Most welcome. Should we go see him before I leave?"

"You're leaving?" Emma gasped, even though she knew it was coming.

"You know I have to," Regina replied sadly.

"Yeah." Emma slowly got to her feet and looked around the glade as the outside world intruded on their moment with noise and talking. She saw the soldiers getting to their feet, and so was her mother. Emma turned back to Regina, a sneer on her face. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Come on," Regina said before transforming into the dragon, the process going even faster now that her body wasn't affected by the curse any longer. She smiled darkly when she saw the open-mouthed stares of the soldiers as the woman turned back into the feared dragon Yolbriidur. Maybe some of them would change the stories they were telling about her now.

Emma climbed onto Regina's back and together they took off, leaving behind a queen and her soldiers still too stunned by what they had witnessed to stop them.

Regina had firm plans to be far away from the castle by the time Queen Snow remembered she hated dragons. And magic. With a snarl, she twitched one of her claws and watched with a glint in her eyes as a storm cloud gathered over the glade and proceeded to douse the people on the ground in a torrential rain.

Emma smiled all the way to her son's room, and the smile only got wider when Henry hugged her, and then, tentatively, also hugged Regina and started asking her a million and one questions about her dragon form.

The king cleared his throat and smiled, pretending not to notice the witch in the room.

—-

Ethelgard smiled at the sound of running feet on the castle stones. "No running, little prince!" she yelled, but there was a smile in her voice.

"Mom says I'm not a prince any longer," Henry replied, poking his head around the door.

"You'll always be a prince," Granny reminded him. "Maybe just one without a throne. Besides, squires need to behave, too."

"What's for dinner?" Henry changed the subject.

"Ruby here caught some very nice fish, so that's what we're having, young man. Want to help us?"

"Sure," he shrugged. "I hope the snow stops soon … I don't want to be cooped up inside here so much."

"You could always find a good book in the library and read," Ethelgard suggested.

"Or do your studies," Ruby added, although she didn't look like she was being serious.

To the women's surprise, Henry blushed a deep shade of red.

Ruby burst out laughing. "Oh, poor boy," she chortled. "Did you enter without knocking _again_ while your mothers were _doing research_?"

Henry brightened even more. "I just wanted to see how their research is going … I don't understand why they can't ever lock the doors," he mumbled. "It's not like Regina would even have to get up to do it."

"You're too young to understand," Ruby replied. "But sometimes you just … stop thinking about things like that."

"All the time?" he complained.

The three women nodded. They all had learned the hard way that opening a door without knocking could lead to seeing more than they ever wanted to see of either Regina or Emma.

Well, Ruby actually didn't mind all that much. It had been an interesting two years at the castle on the mountain.

Just then, the subjects of their conversation burst into the room with huge smiles on their faces. Actually, Emma was grinning wildly, brandishing a tome from the library.

"We've done it!" Emma shouted.

Ethelgard, Ruby and Granny snorted. "We know," Granny said through her laughter.

Regina rolled her eyes. "I swear I have no idea why I'm keeping you three around most days."

"Yeah, yeah," Granny replied.

"That's all nice and good," Emma interrupted, sounding like a puppy needed to show them something exciting. "Regina's found it! The recipe for the elixir!"

"You mean you've finally found a way to turn Mom into a dragon, too?" Henry gasped. "Wow, that's fantastic!"

"It's not quite like that," Regina explained. "But …"

"But at least I won't keel over dead while Regina hasn't aged more than a few days in the upcoming years," Emma added.

"Can I have that, too?" Henry asked.

"We can talk about that when you're older, my little prince," Regina said diplomatically. "You're way too young to stop aging, wouldn't you agree?"

"I can't imagine anyone wanting to be 12 for the rest of their life," Ruby shuddered.

"So when are you going to start making that elixir?" Ethelgard asked.

"As soon as we have all the ingredients," Emma replied.

"Which of course is not quite as easy as our rambunctious knight here makes it sound, right?" Ruby asked Regina.

"Not quite, no."

"Hey, it's another adventure," Emma shrugged. "It won't be easy but …"

But, Ethelgard thought with a smile as she looked at the family gathered in her kitchen — fine, the kitchen she and Granny fought over every day — they were all happy.

And that, after all, was everything.

**The End**


	20. Vampires: Losing Control

**AU Challenge / Challenge on Infinite Earths**

**Part 20: Vampires**

**Summary: An unwilling Emma gets dragged out to a club where she meets a beautiful stranger who turns her night around most spectacularly - and not in an altogether safe way.**

** Disclaimer: Not my characters. Pity. I'd probably treat them better. **

* * *

"Let's go to that club I found, she said," Emma muttered, cursing Ruby under her breath. "It'll be fun, she said," she continued mockingly, shaking her head when the bartender looked at her curiously.

The only one having fun was Ruby who had left Emma standing at the bar not five minutes after they'd arrived to run off to dance with some guy. Emma finished her beer, more than ready to call it a night, although she had no idea how she was supposed to find Ruby in the throng of people crowding the dance floor, and not wanting to leave without letting her know. She craned her neck and looked around but her friend was nowhere to be seen.

Her eyes stopped when they met a pair of dark eyes that belonged to a woman who was leaning casually against a pillar close to the dance floor. She was wearing black leather pants and a black pinstriped vest over a white shirt, which was glowing in the lights of the club. Even across the room Emma could tell that this woman was strikingly beautiful.

Their eye contact held far longer than normal, causing a slight blush to slowly creep up Emma's throat and face. If she didn't know better, she would say that this was the beginning of a flirt, but she didn't trust her instincts because she'd been wrong just as often as she'd been right, and she'd always had more problems reading women than men. Which sucked when you had a slight preference for the fairer sex.

Still, she also couldn't look away. Instead she felt herself getting drawn deeper into the woman's gaze, and Emma felt safe in that connection, cherished, and also more than a little turned on. She looked on as the woman's mouth curled into a smirk, causing Emma's temperature to rise, then watched as she pushed away from the pillar in one fluid motion. Before the woman could take a step, however — and send Emma into a mild panic of _oh my God what am I gonna say and not sound stupid_ — another woman approached her and leaned in to whisper, or possibly shout, in her ear.

Emma saw annoyance flit over the gorgeous face and idly wondered if it was because their eye contact was interrupted. Probably not, Emma decided, she was probably just projecting her own feelings onto someone who wasn't bothered one way or the other. She turned to put her empty bottle on the bar, blush getting a little deeper when she saw that she had managed to peel off the label in tiny little strips while watching the other woman.

_Displacement activity_, her brain supplied helpfully. Sometimes having a degree in psychology sucked.

"All alone?" a voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Can I get you another?"

Emma swiveled on her stool to face the man who had appeared in the seat next to her without her noticing. He was handsome enough, blues eyes, scruffy beard, charming grin, but he was not what or _who_ had gotten her attention. And anything or anyone else just seemed … not worth the trouble.

"No, thanks," she replied with a polite smile.

She made to turn back to the bar but the guy stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Come on," he wheedled. "A pretty lady like you should have a drink with a dashing devil like me."

Emma sharply pulled her arm from his grasp with a glare. "Not. Interested." She waved over the bartender who was watching the whole scene with something akin to amusement.

"I can promise I'll make it worth your while …" His voice had dropped to what she assumed was his seductive tone, but the effect was entirely wasted on her. She gave him a sardonic look and received waggled eyebrows in return. "One more drink," he coaxed once more.

_Did that guy not understand the word no?_ Emma thought, getting a little exasperated now. She tried to make eye contact with the bartender again but to her surprise, the redhead took a step back instead of forward as her eyes shifted to a spot behind Emma.

"I promise I'm the best man you could find in here," he went on. "I could give you the _biggest_ night of your li—"

"I think the lady has made it very clear that she's not interested, Killian," a velvety voice interrupted his spiel. "Not that I blame her for that in the least."

Emma watched as the man whirled around to face the newcomer but Emma didn't follow suit. She knew who she wanted it to be, and wasn't ready to face disappointment if she was wrong. "Now listen here, Your Ma—… _Regina_," he said rapidly, his eyes wide, "I saw her first. That still counts for something, doesn't it."

"Even if that mattered at _all_," Regina growled. "She doesn't want you."

Killian snorted. "And you think _you_ are what she wants?"

There was a pause, which finally got Emma to turn her head further. Regina was _her_, just like she'd hoped. And even more gorgeous this close up and quite obviously angry, judging from the blazing dark eyes and flared nostrils.

"Actually," Emma said before she knew she was going to do it. "_She_ was the one who saw me first ... and I saw _her_," she told Killian. "And _you_ need to leave now."

"You heard her," Regina drawled, her eyebrow rising scornfully.

Killian's eyes narrowed, turning his whole face into an ugly mask, and Emma could have sworn that his eyes changed color to a coal black as well. Weird. "Fine," he finally spat out, "See if she can deliver anything as good as I could."

Emma fully expected him to give Regina a shoulder check as he pushed past her but to her surprise he kept a wide berth around her, and even dipped his head in an approximation of a submissive gesture. Given that Regina was half a head shorter and about 50 pounds lighter than him, Emma found the scene curious. Curiouser and curiouser.

"May I?" Regina's voice curled into Emma's ear and settled somewhere low in her belly.

"S-sure." _Sure? God, Swan, show a little class. _"I mean, you may. After all, you rescued me from that walking bad boy cliché. Who was that guy? With the way you got him to leave ... are you his boss?"

Regina chuckled as she slid gracefully onto the stool. "In a manner of speaking, yes ... I guess you could say I'm his boss," she explained with a small shrug. "He's young and lacks manners, among other things."

Emma wondered at the age comment, given that he had looked older than Regina but shrugged it away. "Well, his ego certainly is huge ..."

"Believe me when I say that it is also completely unfounded," Regina replied with a smirk, only to add, "In every regard," with a small smirk.

"Not that it makes any difference to me," Emma said, a teasing smile playing around her lips. "I much prefer the present company."

"Is that so?" Regina murmured. "Does that mean you might accept another drink? As an apology for Killian's loutish behavior?"

"That depends," Emma replied with a small smile. "Is an unnecessary apology the only reason you want to buy me a drink?"

Regina looked up at the bartender who appeared in front of her within a fraction of a second, also with the same deferential nod of the head. Regina turned back to Emma. "What would you like?"

"Surprise me."

Regina's eyebrow spiked at the teasing tone while the look on Emma's face made her swallow. Her voice was a touch lower when she spoke again without taking her eyes off Emma. "One cider, special reserve for the lady," she ordered. "And for me …" She paused, then rose a little on the stool and leaned over the bar to whisper into the bartender's ear, presenting Emma with a wonderful side-view of her magnificent backside encased in skintight leather.

Emma tore her eyes away before she could do something stupid like reach out and touch but it was harder than it should have been. She saw the redhead's eyes widen at whatever Regina was saying before looking from Regina to her and back quickly while Regina was sitting back down. Then she moved away quickly, almost running. "Dare I ask what you ordered for yourself?" Emma asked, amusement dancing in her eyes.

Surprisingly, Regina looked away from Emma at that. "A special order from my own stock," she muttered after a moment's pause. "I have a … condition that sometimes requires special ingredients."

"And you trust a bartender to mix your drink to your specifications?" At Regina's confident grin and nod, Emma finally put the pieces together. "Wait, your own stock? You work here?"

Regina chuckled. "Not usually," she said, "and I wouldn't call it work." She leaned closer to Emma, trying hard not to inhale her scent, which had been driving her crazy ever since she noticed Emma. "Allow me to introduce myself: my name is Regina and this club is one of a few I own," she continued, one shoulder rising in a half-shrug.

"Pleasure to meet you, Regina. My name is Emma." She waited a beat. "So you run this club?"

Regina shook her head. "I'm only visiting here for a few days; my friend Helena is the boss here."

"The woman from earlier?" There was a hint of jealousy in Emma's tone.

Regina nodded with a smile, delighted that Emma seemed just as interested as she was. She wondered how long she'd have to sit here before it was okay to ask Emma to go somewhere more private. Judging from the look in Emma's eyes, it wouldn't be too long but Regina needed her drink first, if she didn't want to risk doing something unforgivable. The draw of this woman — her scent, the way her blood rushed through her veins, the way her heart pumped loudly, fast and wild — was almost too strong. Too strong to take her without slaking at least some of her thirst first.

"Where do you live?" Emma pulled her from musings.

Regina's smile brightened at the thought of home. "I split my time between New York, New Orleans, and Paris … but these days I spend the most time in New York." Her hand dropped to the bar, landing as close to Emma's as possible without actually touching. "I'm going back there tomorrow," she added, maybe a little more meaningfully than she meant to.

Emma bridged the minuscule distance between their hands and rested her pinky over Regina's, toying with it for a moment. "Is there …" She cleared her throat. "Is there someone waiting for you back home?"

Regina moved her hand and ran her fingers over Emma's knuckles, then tracing the outlines of her fingers and the veins on the back of her hand, trying hard not to imagine the way she would taste. "Apart from my son and my housekeeper … there's nobody special."

Emma didn't quite manage to hide her happy relief. To cover it up, she blurted, "You have a son?"

"I do," Regina replied. She saw Emma open her mouth, so she chuckled and tangled their fingers together. "Before you ask: there is no father to the son," she stated, her voice dropping even further. "Henry's … adopted."

Emma's fingers unconsciously played with Regina's, not even stopping when the bartender appeared before them with their drinks. The one she sat down in front of Emma was the color of amber and clear, while Regina's was a tall glass filled to the brim with a dark red liquid.

"Your cider," the bartender muttered, barely looking at Emma. "And your … Bloody Mary," she added with a deep bow to Regina.

"Thank you, Claudia." Regina took her eyes off of Emma for a moment to smile at the young redhead who flushed and smiled back before scurrying off to the other end of the long bar. "To a beautiful woman," Regina whispered, raising her glass and toasting Emma.

Emma mirrored her. "To my gorgeous savior," she replied, a goofy smile on her face.

She sipped at her cider while Regina downed her drink in three long gulps, swallowing almost greedily. Emma thought she heard Regina moan in pleasure but that was just her imagination, right? Just like the eyes that grew darker and darker before clearing again. Trick of the light, Emma decided, unless … No, Ruby would have mentioned something before taking her to a vampire club … unless she didn't know either … Emma couldn't take her eyes off Regina's face, her stare moving from her mouth to her eyes and back, her whole focus on wondering what that mouth would feel like under hers. When Regina's tongue traced her lips to remove the last remnants of her drink, Emma groaned softly. It was the most sensual thing she had ever seen.

Regina sated herself on the blood in her drink, satisfying the hunger for the moment. She couldn't prevent her mind from imagining the taste of Emma, however, nor her body's reaction to the combination of the images in her head and the taste on her tongue. It took all her willpower to keep her fangs from growing, and she almost bit her own tongue in the attempt. The slight sting of pain from that helped rein in her urges and she tried to release the tense arousal from her body. It didn't help, not when Emma was staring at her mouth and eyes as if she wanted to devour her, and especially not when Emma groaned, however softly, as she leaned closer, invading all her senses.

"Is there somewhere more … quiet we can go?" Emma asked after downing her drink in a desperate attempt to get some moisture back in her mouth, meaning somewhere private, preferably somewhere with a horizontal surface.

Regina nodded, trying not to look too eager. "I have a room in Helena's apartment upstairs," she rasped. "Would that b—?"

Emma didn't let her finish. "Let's go."

Regina pulled Emma through the club by her hand, only stopping to exchange a few whispered words with Helena, who nodded. Emma didn't stop to wonder why the other brunette seemed to look a little concerned.

Emma barely waited until the door to the apartment closed behind them before turning and pushing Regina against the solid wood with her own body, her mouth laying claim to Regina's in a searching kiss. For long seconds, Regina allowed herself to get lost in the sensation — already so much better and more intense than she had imagined — before grabbing Emma by the shoulder and pushing her back gently.

The disappointed sound coming from Emma's mouth nearly made Regina reconsider but she swallowed and pushed down her baser impulses, knowing she needed to clear things up first. Anything else was just going to end in disaster. Not that revealing her true nature couldn't end in disaster anyway but at least it would be before they got naked together.

"Emma," Regina started, keeping the blonde at arm's length. "There's something you need to know before we can … before we should …" Damn, that never got any easier, no matter how many centuries of practice she had by now. Maybe she just shouldn't bother ...

"What is it?" Emma sounded only mildly curious, her eyes roaming from Regina's mouth to her eyes and back.

"Before we … you know …"

"Oh, I _hope_ I know …"

Regina smirked. "Before we … you need to know what you're letting yourself in for," she said as firmly as she could while Emma's desire-filled eyes were looking at her like she was the most delicious food ever.

"What I'm letting myself in for?" That thought seemed to stop Emma for a moment. "If you're worried about … I don't know … is this where we compare notes? I'm clean, if you're worried ... just got checked out for my new job."

Regina smiled at the adorable blonde. "While that's good to know," — not that it would have made a difference to her since anything she could have caught from the blonde would have simply shriveled up and died in her body — "this is about me, not you."

"Okay," Emma said slowly, beginning to wonder if her suspicions were true after all. "So … what? Is this about your … condition? The one that required a special drink?"

"Emma …" Regina swallowed again. "I'm a vampire."

"Are you serious?" Emma just wanted to make sure she had heard right. The revelation only evoked interest, not fear in her, which probably had a lot to do with the fact that the existence of vampires these days was an open secret at best, at least in some cities. Still, it never heard to make sure this wasn't just some prank … "A real, honest-to-God live vampire?"

"Of _course_ I'm serious! Why would I be joking about that?" Regina replied, slightly put off by Emma's reaction. "And live vampire is, by definition, an oxymoron." She forced herself to stop talking to wait for Emma's, probably simply belated, shocked response.

Which didn't come.

"Oh,okay," Emma breathed instead. "I'd heard stories around the city …hard not to, really … Ruby mentioned it, too … but I don't think I've ever met a live one … or whatever … at least not that I know of." She paused, thinking. "Wait, unless … that talking guyliner commercial earlier?"

"Killian, yes," Regina confirmed. "I would _never_ have let you go off with him, by the way … he has control issues."

"And you don't have those," Emma surmised, ignoring Regina's arrogant assumption that she could be told what to do, or not do in this case.

"No." _Not usually. _Regina decided not to mention that Emma was the first person in a couple of centuries who was coming dangerously close to challenging her self-control. "But unfortunately we can't exactly keep him on a leash, no matter how much I'd like to."

"Did you turn him?"

"Killian?" Regina scoffed and visibly shuddered. "Even if I were in the business of turning people, which I'm _not_, I wouldn't have touched _that_ with a ten-foot pole. The one who did has been dealt with. We have strict rules, and harming innocents or giving them the gift is severely punished." Unless there were extenuating circumstances, she added in her mind. Sometimes rules were meant to be broken, especially if the reasons were compelling enough. Helena had been the last person she had broken the rules for, and neither of them had regretted it.

Emma read between the lines and realized that Regina was probably an old and powerful vampire, which would explain the deference the others in the club had shown her — even Killian, who had not been happy about her interference. "How long have you been a vampire?"

"Since the day I was born," Regina replied, surprised that Emma was taking this so well. "Why are you not running for the hills?"

Emma's eyes widened at Regina's reply. If what she had heard was true, that made Regina even older and more powerful than she had assumed. She was so preoccupied, she barely registered Regina's question. "Er … running?" she asked. "Why would I be running?"

Regina shook her head with a small grin. "Let me think … maybe because I could kill you in the blink of an eye? I am what most people consider a monster …"

"Eh," was Emma's quiet reply. "I've seen my fair share of monsters; I'll take my chances." She leveled her gaze at Regina, studying her dark eyes. "Are you planning on killing me?"

"No, of course not."

"And you brought me up here to have sex with me?"

"I wouldn't have put it quite that … bluntly," Regina replied with a wince. "But yes, I find myself attracted to you and brought you up here to get to know you better … but whatever happens or not is totally up to you, Emma. I would nev—"

"You're a very serious woman, aren't you?" The question was genuinely curious, not flippant. "Would it help if I said I am extremely attracted to you as well and followed you up here hoping for some really mind-blowing sex? And that nothing you've said so far has changed my mind?"

"You did? Nothing has?" Regina was gaping at Emma in something akin to awe. "You're not just the most beautiful woman I've met in a long, long time but probably also the most … intriguing."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Oh, it's good," Regina purred, taking a step closer to Emma, bringing their bodies close together once more. "Most definitely good."

"I'm glad," Emma breathed. "Does that mean we can go back to the kissing now? Because I really liked our first kiss."

Now that Emma knew who — or better, what — she really was, Regina loosened the reins she always kept on her innate seductiveness … at least a little as she leaned in closer, taking in Emma's lust-filled eyes and her scent. "I can tell," she husked. "If you wish to kiss me some more, why don't you take what you want?"

Emma's hands reached out as if to touch, then lowered again, and her eyes roamed Regina from top to bottom with enough heat to burn the clothes off her body. It wasn't nerves that made her hesitate, it was being presented with too many choices. Where should she start?

"If you don't want …" Regina sounded unsure once more. "You're free to go back to your frie—"

"No!" Emma blurted. "It's just … there's just so much I want to do tha—"

And then Regina's hands were in her hair, pulling her close with a yank. Emma moaned at the sudden, sharp pain, but it was canceled out when she realized Regina's mouth was on hers, was kissing her with every bit of desire Emma was feeling as well.

Regina's tongue delved inside her mouth, making her insides flare up with a rush of heat. Regina turned them and pushed Emma back against the door, shoving a thigh between her legs and holding Emma up with her own body. The feeling of Regina's thigh against her center had Emma groaning and pressing down, trying to get more friction. She was already so wet, had been getting wetter and wetter from the moment Regina had started speaking to her, and a part of her brain wondered if it was some kind of vampiric super power that had her going out of her mind with want.

Even if that was the case, she realized, she really couldn't care less this very second.

Emma realized that for all her want and desire for Regina, she wasn't actually doing much of anything as her brain was focused on the feeling of being kissed by this beautiful woman. _Time to change that._ Emma wound one of her hands into Regina's dark hair and tilted her head a little to deepen the kiss just a bit more, her tongue stroking Regina's more actively now. She heard a low groan, and then her tongue was inside Regina's mouth, exploring, tasting, caressing, unconsciously following the rhythm set by the subtle thrusts of Regina's thigh against her center.

Regina tore herself away from that delicious mouth, eyes wide, an almost painful throb between her legs. "You are delightful," she whispered rawly, her mouth irresistibly drawn to Emma's long, pale neck. She could hear the blood throbbing in Emma's veins, could almost see it rushing just under the skin, and her body craved Emma in a way it hadn't anyone else in centuries. Before she could blink, her mouth was attached to the side of Emma's neck, sucking, licking, drawing the blood ever closer to the surface. Her fangs elongated on reflex and pushed against the inside of her lips, urging her to open wide and just _take take take_, drink her fill of this wonderful creature, gorge herself on her blood and be one with her.

Regina pulled back with a gasp, wrenching herself away from Emma with something close to pain and taking three rapid steps away from her. Even from this distance the smell of Emma's arousal, the rush of her blood, the hurried thumping of her heart had Regina very close to losing control. "Damnation," she muttered, incensed that even drinking her fill before this encounter hadn't worked. She needed to end this now, send Emma away before something happened that neither of them could want, should want. But oh how she wanted.

Emma watched with a burning stare from half-lidded eyes as Regina panted, looking dark and wild, obviously fighting herself. "Huh … what?" she got out, shocked as she was from the intensity of their kisses, followed by the sudden lack of contact. All she wanted was more. "Regina?"

Regina wasn't looking at Emma, was in fact turning away from her, breathing hard. "You need to leave," she hissed. "Get out now!"

"No … What? No!" Emma was confused. "Why would I … I thought … Don't you wan—"

"I want_ too much_! I _crave_ you!" Regina growled, and the sound was almost feral. "Go, Emma! Go now." _While you still can._

"You want me too much?" Emma pushed herself away from the door and took a hesitant step towards Regina. "What's that even supposed to mean?"

Regina hissed. "It means I'm much more dangerous to you than you realize," she growled. "Much, much more than even I realized."

Emma took another step, still not scared, even as she realized that she should in fact be running as far and as fast as she could. But something about Regina made her trust her, even knowing full well she definitely shouldn't. She couldn't explain it but she just knew that Regina would not hurt her, at least not too much. "What's the worst that can happen?" she asked.

"Are you _serious_? What's _wrong_ with you?!" Regina whirled around, then took a quick step back, surprised at how close Emma was. Her control was slipping as it was, and she didn't need to be tempted even more. "I could kill you!" _And I really don't want to._

"See, here's the thing," Emma said, voice soothing and calm. "I'm not stupid, I'm not suicidal. I know that you probably could kill me, and easily at that."

"Exactly! So you really should—"

"But I don't think you will."

"— go!" Regina's brain caught on after a fraction of a second. "What?"

"Regina," Emma said calmly. "I want you … hell, my body is _screaming_ at me that it needs you … and I trust you not to kill me." She gently touched the back of Regina's shoulder. "I trust you to stop before anything … irreversible happens."

The implication was clear, and Regina's fangs grew a bit more. It had been decades since she'd drunk from another human being, but the instinct was still there, urging her on as if it had only been a day. "You don't know what you're saying," she muttered. "You can't be _that_ desperate for sex."

"Now you're just trying to push me away," Emma pointed out, reading Regina surprisingly well.

"You're not taking this seriously enough," Regina hissed. "You have no idea what I'm capable of!"

"True," Emma agreed. "But there's something between us … I _know_ you can feel it too … and I don't want to lose that before we even get a chance to find out what it is."

There was a long pause during which the only sounds that could be heard were their ragged breathing and the bass from the club beneath their feet.

"I'm scared," Regina finally admitted softly. "You make me lose control, and that hasn't happened in … I don't know _what_ could happen when I lose myself in you. I really _could_ kill you, Emma."

"You won't." Emma cupped Regina's face and forced their eyes to meet. "The fact that you're so worried about that tells me you won't."

Regina laughed. "You're an idiot," she whispered. "But if you keep looking at me like that it's a moot point any—"

Emma pulled her in for a kiss, gentle and sweet, completely unlike any of their previous kisses. She nibbled at Regina's lips until she opened her mouth to allow Emma to deepen the kiss, still gentle, still sweet, and Regina groaned at the contact. When Emma's tongue came in contact with her fangs, they both hissed, Regina in anticipated pleasure, Emma in surprise.

"Jesus, they're sharp," she moaned against Regina's lips, but it didn't sound like pain.

Regina's hands tangled in Emma's hair and pulled her closer. Surprisingly, their little discussion or fight or whatever it was had helped, and she felt a little more in control now. Emma's trust in her made her want to prove herself worthy. And knowing that she was allowed to let go, be herself with the consent of her partner … that was a heady feeling. She supposed, however, that she was lucky that Emma's little experimental contact with her fangs hadn't resulted in blood, the taste of which would most probably destroyed her control in a heartbeat and everything would have been over very quickly.

"Where's that room of yours?" Emma asked … panted, really. "I don't think I can do this standing up."

Yes, lying down sounded like a good idea, so Regina gently maneuvered them as swiftly as she could toward the end of the hallway where her bedroom was. They made it to the room in remarkably good time despite being all tangled up in each other, and as soon as Regina managed to open the door, she began working on getting Emma's clothes off in earnest. By the time they were standing at the foot of her bed, Emma's shirt was hanging off her arms, and her jeans were open and riding very low on her hips.

"Unfair," Emma commented, pulling on Regina's vest. "You too." Her fingers were stumped by the row of tiny buttons. "Fucking buttons," she muttered.

"Just rip it," Regina commanded in a low voice. "Want to feel you."

Emma did just that, and because it was both sexy and fun, she continued with the shirt, only to stop at the sight of Regina's breasts in a lacy black bra. "Holy fuck," she breathed.

"Nothing holy about me, dear," Regina hissed as Emma's lips unerringly went for an already hard nipple. "Ungh … harder … won't break."

Emma growled around the nipple before switching sides. "Your skin might."

"So?" Emma could practically hear the smirk on Regina's face.

"Sorry, forgot who I'm talking to for a second." She didn't sound sorry at all.

Regina snorted against Emma's throat. "Then maybe I should remind you." Her fangs protruded from her lips as she trailed her mouth along the corded muscle between neck and shoulder, lightly scratching but never breaking skin.

Emma hissed in pleasure. "God, yes."

Regina took a deep breath, which only helped marginally, and filed Emma's response away for future reference. She forced her fangs back with all her willpower, then bit the skin she had just scratched. Emma tensed in her arms, then relaxed as she only felt Regina's normal teeth. When the vampire started to suck at the skin to mark her, Emma moaned long and deep, her hands digging into Regina's sides hard enough to leave marks of their own.

"You like that," Regina murmured against Emma's skin.

"Apparently," Emma agreed around another, smaller moan, this time caused by Regina's thigh which had snuck between her legs and pressed against her center. "Again."

Regina wasn't sure what she was supposed to do again, so she repeated every move at the same time, causing Emma to almost collapse in her arms when her knees gave way. Then she moved her mouth to Emma's lips and decided to finally show her what being with a vampire could be like while praying for control at the same time. When their lips parted, Emma had a dazed look in her eyes.

Suddenly, Regina moved unnaturally fast, close to a blur, and before Emma knew what had happened, she was lying on the large bed, completely naked, with an equally undressed vampire kneeling between her legs, a look of total hunger in her eyes. Instead of being scared, Emma was undeniably, indescribably turned on.

"Neat trick," Emma breathed as she took in the sight of the flawless skin and the breasts on display before her.

"It comes in handy sometimes." Regina ran her index finger down Emma's left arm, leaving goosebumps behind. "Now where do I start?"

"Anywhere," Emma breathed. "Everywhere. Just … fuck me, please."

"It'll be my pleasure," Regina rasped with a smirk. "And yours."

"You're pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?" Emma arched her eyebrow but the fact that her eyes were glazed over in sheer lust was making her snarky comment rather unbelievable.

In reply, Regina's hands went for Emma's breasts, massaging them deftly until the nipples hardened under her palms and Emma's back was arched in pleasure. "You're driving me crazy," Regina moaned at the sight even as she leaned in to press her lips to the stretched column of Emma's neck. "From the moment I saw you," she continued amid licks, sucks and nibbles. "Wanted you … you smell divine … everything about you …"

Regina's husky voice was driving Emma mad with desire, almost as badly as her touch. How was this woman able to drive her so absolutely out of her mind with just her voice and a few touches? Was it her vampiric power? Or was it simply her?

Emma forgot about those question when Regina slowly started moving down her body, leaving hickeys and tiny bite marks everywhere she went but never drawing blood, always keeping herself in check. Emma wasn't sure that she should be as disappointed by that as she was.

"Magnificent," Regina breathed into the curve of Emma's hip. "Perfect," she moaned as she reached a toned thigh, her eyes growing three shades darker from the scent and the throb of blood rushing through the femoral artery. Both so enticing, both driving her so crazy that it was hard to make up her mind what she wanted to taste first.

"Please," Emma groaned, driven ever higher from the way Regina's hot breath skittered across her wet folds. "Please touch me."

Mind made up for her, Regina dove in, putting her mouth where she had imagined it from the first moment she had seen Emma across the crowded bar. And it was wonderful, even better than anything her imagination had come up with.

"Jesus," Emma moaned as her fingers clenched in the sheets. Regina ran her tongue through Emma's soaking wet folds in one bold stroke, licking up every drop she could find, stopping just before she got to where Emma wanted her most.

Emma heard Regina moan loudly at the taste, the sound releasing yet more wetness, causing her fingers to clench even harder, bunching the sheets under her fists. Her thighs trembled, her legs wrapping themselves around Regina's head, ankles locking behind her back. And then Regina began kissing her core the way she had kissed her mouth before, exploring deftly, tongue stroking in a fast-paced rhythm, devouring her with a hunger Emma had never experienced before.

This wasn't the first time someone had gone down on Emma but it might as well have been the way this felt, new and exciting, with just a touch of danger, of which Emma was reminded sharply when she felt the blunt edge of Regina's teeth running along her labia. Carefully, so carefully, but dangerous nonetheless. And Emma wanted it all, wanted the unbelievable feelings she got from Regina, wanted to feel _everything_ that she could give her, wanted to see if there was even _more_ to feel.

Regina was trying desperately to hold on to her control but she was getting closer to snapping with every broad lick of her tongue, every groan from Emma, every taste, every smell. She teased Emma's labia with tiny licks and bold strokes, just barely grazing with her teeth, her fangs almost aching to come out and sink themselves into the banquet before her.

When Regina's tongue delved into Emma's opening as deeply as it could go, Emma released a small scream and her thighs closed around Regina's head in a vise grip. "God, Regina … I'm so close, so close …" Emma panted. "Please let me come … please …"

The pleas were what finally broke Regina's last bit of restraint, not the sound of Emma's blood rushing through her veins against her ears nor the scent of Emma's arousal, more intense now that she was so close to coming. With a growl, Regina replaced her tongue with three fingers, pushing them in deeply, fast, while her lips closed around Emma's clit and sucked hard.

Emma came with a scream and a rush of liquid, which Regina lapped up greedily, and as soon as Emma was lost in the throes of her orgasm, Regina's mouth moved to the femoral artery, fangs elongated to their full extent.

Emma felt the scraping of teeth, knew instantly what it was, and felt Regina hesitating for one last moment. "Do it, please," she panted, still caught in the middle of a spectacular orgasm, "just do it!"

Regina groaned, inhaled Emma's scent once more, then ran the tip of her tongue along the artery, playing for a moment, making Emma moan impatiently. Then Regina picked the perfect spot, sank her fangs through pliant flesh straight into the artery, and started to feed from a human for the first time in a long, long time.

Emma screamed in pain, then pleasure, her thigh on fire, her orgasm suddenly shooting into overdrive in a way she had never experienced before. It was painful, it was exhilarating, it was glorious, it felt like it would never ever stop. It didn't stop, she didn't stop coming, and Emma began to wonder if she was losing her mind because something like that surely couldn't be happening. Something this good shouldn't be allowed to exist. Then, slowly, the intensity abated a little bit, then more and more, and a feeling of great lassitude began to take over. She was feeling sated and sleepy, so sleepy.

Regina drank deeply, relishing the way the warm blood swirled in her mouth and rushed down her throat. She sucked harder to get more, the feeling increasing the arousal she already felt from making Emma come against her mouth. She wrapped herself around Emma's other leg, rubbing herself hard against her shin to get some friction, more stimulation. The more she drank, and the louder Emma got, the closer Regina got to the edge until she was thrown off, her mouth tearing away from Emma's thigh with a raw scream of ecstasy just as Emma went completely limp right before her eyes.

Quickly, Regina closed the puncture wounds by sealing them with her saliva, already berating herself even as the aftershocks of her surprisingly intense orgasm were still coursing through her. _You fool, too much, too much!_

When the wound was closed and the thigh was thoroughly cleaned of blood, Regina crawled up Emma's body and gathered her in her arms. "Come on," she whispered. "Please."

"That … was … awesome," Emma croaked almost inaudibly, body shuddering a little. "Jesus … _fuck_ …" She moaned low in her throat as she curled herself into Regina's embrace. "Tired," she mumbled against Regina's neck and promptly fell asleep.

Regina exhaled in relief. "Rest now," she whispered, voice raw and hoarse, from screaming no doubt. "Everything's going to be all right."

She closed her eyes and tightened her hold on the woman in her arms, hoping to hell she was right. The thought of losing Emma did not sit well with her at all, despite the shortness of their acquaintance, and she was glad — if not a little confused — that her orgasm had ripped her away from feasting too much, or even more than even the _too much_ she'd already fed.

She had no idea how long she had been lying there with Emma sleeping in her arms when Emma began to stir. "Hi," the blonde murmured.

"Hey." Regina almost laughed in relief.

"How long was I out?"

"I have no idea," Regina replied softly. "But it's still dark out, so not long probably." Maybe she hadn't taken as much blood as she thought she had.

"You bit me," Emma stated, her tone unreadable.

Regina swallowed. "I'm so sorry … I haven't lost control like that in … forever … and I—"

"Shh." Emma clumsily reached up and pressed two fingers against Regina's lips. "I wanted you to."

"You really did? It wasn't just what I wanted to hear?"

"I really did," Emma confirmed. "I wanted to feel what it's like, and I trusted you to stop before—"

"That could have gone very, very wrong," Regina admitted quietly against Emma's fingers. "It almost _did_ go wrong." She turned her face to look at Emma. "I wasn't in control, and if you hadn't … if I hadn't … well—"

"If you hadn't … what?"

"If you hadn't make me come with your scent and your orgasm and the feeling of your essence pouring into my mouth—"

"I made you come without touching you?"

Regina nodded, unable to stop the lazy smile blossoming on her face.

"And I missed it?" Emma was aghast. "I can't believe I missed that!" She raised herself up on an elbow to lean over Regina. "That won't do … we need to do it again."

Regina found herself charmed, even more so than she had been before. "We can talk about that once you've rested some more, okay?" she said, pulling Emma back down but not fast enough to miss Emma's pout. "Please … You need to replenish your strength."

"Are you afraid I can't handle you?" Emma snorted, then promptly yawned.

"Just rest." Regina made to move away from Emma and get up to let her sleep.

"Where you goin'?"

"I need to get back to the club, check on things."

"Didn't you say your friend ran things here?" Emma asked. "Come back here." She paused. "Or I'll have to get up as well."

That was exactly the right thing to say given that Regina was still worried about Emma's blood loss and her own loss of control that led to it. "Fine, you win," she growled as she crawled back onto the bed. She found the covers at the foot of the bed and drew them up, covering them both. "I'll be lying here staring at the ceiling then," she grumbled, not used to long periods of inactivity and feeling very, very refreshed and filled with life and energy after her recent feeding. But to her own surprise, the feeling of Emma in her arms grounded her, made her far less restless than she expected to be.

"Then tell me about yourself."

"I don't …" _… ever tell conquests about myself_, Regina wanted to say but didn't when the words wouldn't form on her tongue for some reason. And she'd already broken her own rule by mentioning Henry within the first five minutes. What _was_ it about Emma that made her act so unlike herself? "I don't know where to start," she said instead.

"The basics are always good," Emma replied, pressing her whole body closer to Regina's while her fingertips drew random patterns on any part of her skin they could reach. "How old are you?"

Regina snorted. "Thirty."

"Ha ha." Emma slapped Regina's thigh under the covers. "I mean your real age."

"Old," she replied. "Very, very old."

"I'll get it out of you one day," Emma promised. "Is your son … is Henry a vampire too?"

Regina's head spun at the sudden change in topic. "No, he isn't," she said softly. "He was found when he was just a few days old … his parents had been killed by a vampire … not one of mine," she added the last bit quickly. "He was brought to me, and I fell in love with him instantly. I tried to find other family members but there weren't any …"

"So you kept him as your own," Emma concluded. "Does he know that you're …?"

"That his mother is a vampire?" Regina felt Emma's nod against her shoulder. "Yes."

That single word was fraught with so much depth that Emma knew there was more to it. "He wasn't too happy about it?" she guessed.

"It's been … difficult," Regina replied slowly. "I think a lot has to do with the fact that he heard about it from someone else, not me … he overheard a few guests at my house talking when he was supposed to be sleeping, and he hasn't really trusted me since."

"How long ago was that?"

"About two years," Regina sighed. "He's determined to find his _real parents_."

"But they're …"

"He doesn't believe that …" Regina paused. "I gave them a funeral, and I took Henry to their graves but there wasn't much I could tell him about them. I didn't tell him how they died, so now he probably thinks I lied to him about the whole thing." She let out a sigh, wondering once again why she found it so easy to talk to Emma. "I didn't know how to tell him, especially not after he heard about me … my nature. He'd probably think I killed them to get him." Her voice broke, and she wiped at her eyes with angry, jerky motions, dismayed at having been rendered this vulnerable by some _human_.

"He'll be okay," Emma soothed. "Once he's older, he'll understand. I know what it's like to find out you don't have parents." She sighed. "It's tough, and it gnaws at you, the not knowing. If you don't tell him the truth, his thoughts will only come up with ideas that are far worse … Believe me, it might be better to tell him the truth."

"You're an orphan?" Regina asked.

"Hmmm," Emma mumbled, sounding sleepy again. "I could talk to him, y'know," she added in a half-asleep murmur. "Explain things … make him see … am a child psychologist."

"Maybe you could," Regina conceded. Had she heard that right about Emma being a child psychologist? She probably just meant that Regina should take him to see one, which was something that had crossed her mind before. "Maybe you should." She pressed a kiss into Emma's hair but her only response was a soft snore.

Regina spent the night holding Emma, her mind working out possibilities, coming up and tossing away scenarios, all of which had Emma at their center. Emma and a smiling Henry, and she knew if anyone could get through to Henry, it was this woman. After all, if Emma could crack his mother's tough vampire self-control and get to her heart, then how could he resist her?

When Emma woke up hours later she felt rested if a little sore. She turned her head to continue the conversation she had fallen asleep on and saw to her surprise a sight she never would have dreamed of seeing.

Regina was asleep, there was a smile on her face, and Emma knew without a doubt that she would do anything in the world to have their night mean more than a one-night stand. She put her head back on Regina's shoulder, lips pressed against her neck, and made a mental note to thank Ruby for dragging her out last night.

**The End**


	21. Parody of another fandom: Catwalk

**AU Challenge / Challenge on Infinite Earths **

**Part 21: Parody of another fandom (I'm bad at parodies, so I simply put Emma and Regina into another fandom and used some of that fandom's tropes ... or hope I did. In this case: Mirandy)**

**Summary: Emma Swan is the assistant to Regina Mills, Editor-in-Chief of _Catwalk_, the premier fashion magazine in the world.**

* * *

Emma Swan has learned quite a few things since she started to work for Regina Mills, Editor-in-Chief of _Catwalk_, the premier fashion magazine in the world.

One, she doesn't actually work for _Catwalk_, no matter what her contract says — she works for Regina Mills. Period. In fact, Emma would go as far as to say she serves at the pleasure of Regina Mills (yes, sometimes being a West Wing junkie will shine through and seriously, Regina acts like she's the president anyway, and _Catwalk_ is probably way more important than the White House ever will be in her eyes).

Two, there are a few tricks to making sure Regina is happy (okay, _happy_ might be exaggerating, it's more like _less unhappy) _and keeping herself and everyone else some semblance of sane. Or at least employed.

Emma learned most of these things on her first day:

Regina likes her coffee scalding hot, and you better have it ready and waiting before she knows she wants it.

Regina hates to be interrupted in meetings but if you manage to let her miss a call from her son she'll flay you alive.

You do not leave the phone ringing more than five seconds.

You do not leave your desk under any circumstances. (No, dying is not an excuse.)

You do not talk back.

You do not ask Regina anything (she really couldn't care less about the details of your incompetence).

And you do not, Emma sighs internally, throw world-famous models out of 17th floor windows. Probably. Regina might, though. (That's not an actual rule Emma has heard about yet but she's only been working at _Catwalk_ for a year so there's time.)

Emma contemplates these things as she's standing in Regina's spacious office, notepad and pen in hand, ready to jot down the brilliant thoughts that flow from her boss's brain while she and her staff discuss next month's cover and central spread. But Regina isn't spouting fashion brilliance right now, she's talking to Ruby Lucas, the modeling sensation who is slated for her first _Catwalk_ cover, on the coveted September issue no less.

Ruby Lucas who is shamelessly ogling Regina, unable to tear her eyes away from the lace that is peeking out through the low-cut blouse her boss is wearing. (Emma could describe the lace _en detail_ because she's been staring at it for the better part of the morning but she knows how to be discreet. Mostly. Most of the time. Okay, Regina makes it really hard sometimes.)

And it's not just that Regina is actually _talking_ to a model — a fact that has the rest of the team staring with their jaws dropped — no, she's downright _flirting_ with her, voice all husky and low, aural sex nobody within a radius of 100 miles is immune to, not even the two very gay men in the room right now.

Emma most definitely isn't. Especially not today, not after the way her early morning went … Her brain grinds to a halt, her eyes fixed on the flirty gaze Regina is sending the long-legged model. Is _that_ what's going on here? Is this some form of reaction?

Emma takes a deep breath to rein in her anger, and then another because it's not really working. And things only go downhill from there. With a look at Emma, raised eyebrow and all, Regina leans closer to Ruby, her breasts deliberately brushing against the model's arm, one hand running up and down the sleeveless gown Ruby is modeling for Regina and the team, tracing the seams, checking the stitching. (Or something like that … at least that would be the excuse Regina would come up with if asked. Not that anybody would dare ask her.) Ruby is blushing furiously under the attention while Regina is smirking evilly, knowing exactly the effect she has on people.

Emma has enough; anger and frustration making her thoughts cloudy and her hands clumsy. She growls low in her throat but apparently still loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear and turn to her, looking as horrified as if she's just eaten a bear claw in front of them. And Emma doesn't stop there. Now that she has everyone's attention, she takes a deep breath, ready to tell everyone to get the hell out of the room — especially Ruby and her flimsy gown — but no words come out. From the looks on the faces around her she can see that she has everyone a little concerned; she really needs to work on her poker face.

Everyone except for Regina, of course. The Evil Queen is cool as a cucumber, her hand resting on Ruby's barely covered hip, her eyes slowly tracking to Emma as if to see what kind of insignificant disturbance she's causing now.

Emma knows her face is like thunder when even Regina's eyes widen just a little after they share a good, long look. But then Regina decides to be her usual self as she turns to everyone and just raises a mocking eyebrow, completely disregarding Emma.

For a second Emma is tempted to stomp her foot but she quickly decides that childish behavior really wouldn't be advisable right now. She deliberately places her pen and notepad in the middle of Regina's large desk — if deliberately were defined as _dropping stuff with as much clatter as possible _— and assumes her battle stance, feet spread shoulder wide, fists on her hips, shoulder straight and back. Ruby instinctively takes a step back while Regina licks her lips. Oh yes, Regina likes her that way, confident and assertive, which is why Emma walks and talks the way she does around her most of the time.

And with her battle stance comes her voice. "Everyone, would you excuse Regina and me for a few?" she not-really-asks, her eyes never leaving Regina's.

Regina glares at her, ignoring everyone's shocked inhales. "No, no," she says softly, so softly. "Stay where you are. It looks as if my soon to be ex-assistant has something to say." The words are harsh but the voice is soft, and still every person in the room knows to stay put.

_Oh, hell no._ Emma shakes her head as Regina's words sink in. So _this_ was the reason … _Of course. _Emma growls again before she can stop herself, and now more than one person takes a step back.

Regina doesn't. Regina flushes a shade darker.

"Out." It's only one word but Emma's tone can be as convincing as Regina's when she wants it to be, and right now her focus is on Regina and the fact that they need to have a conversation. Now.

The four other people in the room look between Emma and Regina unsure what to do. Finally Regina gives the minutest of nods, and four pairs of feet beat a hasty retreat to the safety of the hallway outside. One even has the presence of mind to close the door behind them. David, the darling. Emma is going to buy him a drink if she survives the day.

"Your _soon to be ex-assistant_?" Emma repeats as soon as they're alone. "Is _that_ what this is about? That relentless flirting with some airhead model?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Regina scoffs before smirking again, and Emma knows she's being toyed with but she has no idea why. All she knows is that she doesn't know whether to slap or kiss the superior look off Regina's face, so she guesses Regina's tactics are working. Damn.

"_You_ were the one who decided to leave me, were you not?" Regina continues. As quiet as her voice is, Emma can also clearly detect the anger in it. And is that … _hurt_?

"We talked about that," Emma defends. "I need to lea—"

"Yes, yes," Regina interrupts, shooing Emma away with her hands. "You need to spread your wings, need to not be some lowly assistant. Which is why I called you my _soon to be ex-assistant_, so I fail to see why you're making such a scene about that."

"I'm not making …" Emma stops and growls. "_You_ were the one making a scene!"

Regina blushes. "Enough!" she snarls. "You want to leave me, so leave."

Emma opens her mouth, then closes it again as her mind snags on Regina's word choice. Leave _me_. She's said it twice now. "Oh my God," she breathes when she realizes what this is really about.

"Praying now, dear?"

"I'm leaving _Catwalk_, not you!" Emma says softly. When she's certain she has Regina's full attention, she continues. "_Never_ you, Regina."

"Well," Regina sighs. "I remember quite clearly that you said you were quitting, so I thought …"

"Thought what? You're going to show me what I'll be missing by not seeing you every minute of every day?" Emma runs her hand through her hair in frustration. "Believe me, I _know_. But we talked about this … We agreed this morning that I can't possibly stay."

"You could," Regina insists. "If we stopped whatever is happening—"

"Stop right there," Emma commands, and her voice is as serious as Regina has ever heard her. "You think you could replace me with some bimbo model? Is that what you meant when you said you love me? Well then … I guess that makes leaving a little easier for me." She has no intention of leaving Regina, not if she can help it, but she wants to see what Regina is going to do.

Regina is quiet. She had whispered the words to her sleeping assistant … well, _lover_ actually, or so she thought. "You heard that?" is all she can think to say. "You weren't supposed to—"

"I know." Emma's voice is the gentlest she can make it. "You don't trust me. Or my feelings. Whichever."

"No, that's—"

"It's true," Emma stops her mid-denial. "But you robbed yourself of the chance to hear me saying it back."

Regina gasps softly.

Emma rolls her eyes. "Come on, you didn't _know_?" she asks. "How could you _not_ know? That's why I need to leave. _Catwalk_, not you. Because I can't work with you if all I want to do is kiss you all day long. That's kinda disruptive, you know."

"Well, I … you …."

It's the first time ever that Emma hears Regina Mills lost for something to say, and she enjoys the moment whole-heartedly for about a second. Then the slightly lost look in Regina's eyes registers with her, and her feet take her to right in front of her lover without a conscious thought. She cups Regina's face in her hands, brushing her thumbs across the beautiful cheekbones.

"I love you, Regina," she whispers and leans in for a kiss.

Their lips meet softly, almost hesitantly, until it's Regina who wraps her hands in Emma's hair and pulls her just that bit closer and tilts her head just so, deepening the kiss for long, delicious moments.

When they part, their breathing is slightly labored, the looks in both their eyes slightly wild, and Emma rues the fact that Regina's office is too dangerous a place for them to indulge in anything more because right now she wants to show Regina exactly what she's feeling for her. "I wish …" she murmurs against Regina's lips.

To her pleasure the older woman chuckles lightly. "I know," she rasps. "So do I." Another quick kiss that turns into a languid exploration, then she withdraws from Emma. Her eyes are very dark when she gives Emma the once-over, then shakes her head in clear disappointment. "Alas, I have lunch with—"

"Karl … I know." Emma sighs. "I booked the restaurant." She checks her watch. "I guess you need to get ready, huh?"

"I do," Regina confirms, and she actually sounds regretful. "I wish …"

"You wish?"

"No, no more wishes." Regina looks at her, and Emma can see the decision being made behind those dark eyes. "Call HR and find a new assistant for me — a capable one. Ask David for a reference, which he will provide gladly."

Emma's mouth opens but before she can ask anything, Regina continues. "Book a table for two for tomorrow night at that restaurant you mentioned that time."

Emma swallows. "Does that mean—"

"You didn't think I was going to keep you as a dirty secret on the side, did you?" Regina smirks, knowing exactly how sexy that is. A second later, however, she's biting her lips uncertainly. "Unless of course you wouldn't want to be seen in public—"

Emma stops her with a kiss that robs them both of breath and presence of mind and destroys the last of their lipstick. "I love you," Emma breathes when she can get herself to pull away (and it's only because not even Regina can leave Lagerfeld waiting too long). "I'll be honored to be seen with you."

Regina nods, looking pleased. "Good." She pats Emma's chest with her hand before finally stepping away from temptation. "Will you bring the book tonight? One last time?"

Emma nods. "One last time." She ignores the way her voice cracks at that thought.

Regina walks to her desk to pick up a folder, then heads for the door. Before she opens it, she turns her head. "Oh, and Emma? It would be perfectly all right if you brought an overnight bag as well."

With that she's gone, and Emma only reacts after she hears Regina's command of "Coat! Bag!" and the staccato of her heels heading for the elevator. She has trouble wrestling the smile off her face as she whispers "Yes, Regina," as she heads back to her desk to take care of her final set of orders.

David is waiting by her desk, failing miserably to look innocent. "Sooooo," he whispers. "Are you fired?"

"I am." Emma laughs in sheer, unadulterated happiness.

"That's a good thing?" David sounds as confused as he looks.

"It is," Emma confirms. "A very good thing." She looks around to make sure they're alone. "You need to help me find the perfect dress for tomorrow night. For dinner at Evangelico's."

David gives her a long look, puts two and two together and beams a bright smile at her. "I have just the thing," he declares.

"Great. Nothing too over the top, though. Something … _me_." Impulsively, Emma hugs him. "I owe you drinks."

"You owe me _details_ over drinks, you mean."

"The amount of detail depends on the greatness of your reference for me," Emma counters.

David doesn't even look surprised at that, knowing his boss' mind better than almost anyone. "_All_ the details then."

"You're not even a little bit surprised, are you?"

"Nope." David turns to leave. "You may want to reapply your lipstick, darling. Like Regina did on the way to the elevator …"

Then he's gone and Emma is left to sit at her desk, smiling brightly, not even stopping when Mal, the first assistant returns to her desk.

"What do _you_ have to smile about after that scene you made earlier?" Mal snarls, her disdain for Emma clear as day.

"Regina fired me."

For a moment, Mal is stunned but then the smile on her face matches the one on Emma's. "That _is_ something to smile about. Good riddance."

Emma chuckles but doesn't reveal her thoughts. _Wait till you see why on Page Six._

* * *

Two weeks later, the _Post_ has a photo of Emma and Regina walking hand in hand towards Regina's townhouse, and one of them kissing in front of Nobu, complete with an article filled with half-truths and speculation, which means their secret is finally out.

Emma imagines she can hear Mal's shriek all the way up Madison Ave to her new desk at the _New Yorker_.

David really _did_ deserve a lot of details.

**The End**


End file.
